


Swimming Lessons

by stuckinabottle



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awkward Flirting, Harry being over the top and ridiculous, M/M, Swimming, Zayn being awkwardly adorable, mentions of past relationships - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-28
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2017-12-30 17:37:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1021486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuckinabottle/pseuds/stuckinabottle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU in which Zayn learns to swim and let loose a little, and maybe finds love along the way. </p><p> </p><p>or the one where Zayn is a graduate student roped into taking care of his sister's kid and Harry's a charming, albeit eccentric swimming instructor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lesson 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first foray into the 1d fanfiction world. Hope you enjoy! Rating subject to change. What'd you think of the banner?

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

Swimming Lessons

Chapter 1

 

With a sigh, Zayn hoisted a boisterous three year old onto his shoulder. "Up we come, sweet pea," he mumbled into her pink clothed shoulder. He laughed as her chubby fists reigned terror all over his upper back. Her bare feet waved in the air next to his face. 

 

Zayn swore this was the last summer this was ever going to happen. As much as he loved Doniya and her daughter, Nadira, this was certainly the last time. Since her birth and since Zayn was then a uni student-now a graduate student--and consequently had his summers free, Zayn found himself recruited to look after his darling niece. Zayn wasn't the kind of person to turn his back to his family either. It was pretty nice if he really thought about it. He loved getting out of hustle of London and had plenty of time to work on his thesis, if he was so moved. He supposed it helped that Doniya let him stay in her house and paid him a little bit. Overall no complaints, well none until this year.

 

Doniya for some reason had insisted that Nadira learn to swim in her third year of existence. Which was kind of strange, thought Zayn, considering he didn't even know how to, and Doniya hadn't learned until she was 19 herself. He guessed it might be because Doniya's husband was a swimmer during his uni years as well. Zayn was adamant that he wasn't embarrassed that his three year old niece would soon be able to swim when he couldn't, well, maybe he was a little embarrassed. More like a whole lot. But, he didn't even like the pool or the ocean or really any body of water so it didn't really matter, right?

 

"Unca Zayn, where we going?" she asked, petulantly kicking her feet up slightly, almost catching Zayn's nose. 

 

"Sweet pea, you know where we're going. It's Tuesday, you have your first swimming lesson," Zayn murmured. With one hand he held his niece and with the other he chucked a pair of kiddie goggles into Nadira's swim pack, along with her Little Mermaid towel.

 

"How come mummy or dada can't bring me? Do you even know how to swim Unca Zayn?" 

 

"Mummy is at work, you know that. I don't, Nadira, that's why you're going to learn so you can teach me, sound good, yeah?" He carried her to the car. Humming as he walked. Zayn strapped Nadira into her car seat with precision. He had picked it out after all.

 

...

 

"Hi we're here for a swimming lesson," said Zayn to the blond receptionist. His name tag read, "Niall". His hair was gelled up, and sunglasses rested atop it a bit like a crown. He squinted up at Zayn bemusedly and then down at Nadira. 

 

"Course, yeah, why else you be 'ere?" the boy chuckled, "name?"

 

"Nadira Soofi."

 

"Excellent! Found ya. So will you to be doing the 'Mummy and me', err I suppose 'Dad and me' class?" Niall scratched behind his ear sheepishly. 

 

"No! He's not my daddy. Unca Zayn can't even swim, did you know?" Nadira exclaimed. Zayn felt his face heat up.

 

"Nadira's got a private. With a Liam, I think."

 

"Ahh you're Liam's three o'clock! Right on time. Well Liam is just coming off a break, so why don't you both sit right over there and I'll send Liam over in a jiff," Niall pointed, and then in a whisper to Zayn, "Liam's the best. And mate, don't worry, we all gotta learn someday! We got adult lessons in the evening if you want to learn, very discrete!"

 

Zayn nodded politely and a bit out of reflex; he then shepherded Nadira over to the bench. He could awful use a smoke right now. He had an itching for it. Nadira just grinned innocently at him, kicking her feet back and forth where she sat on the bench. Zayn pulled her goggles out of the pack and helped pull them over her pony tail. 

 

"Tight enough, yeah?" Zayn pulled a slightly on the straps. Nadira nodded. 

 

"Nadira right?" said a friendly voice. Zayn looked up and saw who must be Liam. He had on rather long swim trunks and was quite muscular. 

 

"That's her not me," offered Zayn, nodding head at his niece. She bounced down from the bench and smiled big at her new swimming instructor.

 

"Hi, I'm Liam," he extended a hand. Zayn shook it. 

 

"Zayn."

 

"So it's Nadira's first time swimming. So she's going to be wearing this the whole time," Liam held up some floaties, "We'll be mostly in the shallow end, if you have any concerns, just shout. But I assure you, your little girl will be just fine!"

 

"Niall says you've filled out all the paper work in advance, so I guess we are ready when you are Nadira!"

 

Liam then sat back on his heels and conversed briefly with Nadira. She promptly shucked her clothes throwing them up to Zayn. Zayn chuckled, she was certainly going to be a charmer when she grew up. 

 

He watched as Liam led his niece to the water and proceeded to coax her in. He hoped Nadira didn't mind that he wasn't about to watch the whole lesson. It was unnerving watching all these small kids splashing around happily. Zayn inhaled deeply and felt his throat constrict a bit. He felt light headed almost, not to mention that the smell of chlorine was starting to burn the insides of Zayn's nostrils and irritate his eyes. He ran a hand through his rumpled hair and headed out. 

 

...

 

It turned out Nadira loved swimming. Of course she would. So her lessons were upped to two a weeks, much to Zayn's chagrin. Now each Tuesday and Thursday brought Zayn to the old swimming pool. He mostly used the half hour lesson as an excuse to smoke a lot in the back alley outside the facility. Once he even bummed a fag off of super fit, impeccably dressed, model type bloke. He may have even flirted.

 

The smoking was cathartic. While his niece learned to do doggie paddle he burnt up his lungs. Doniya hated the smell too, so he didn't tried his best not to do it at the house. Two birds, one stone. What he most loved about these pesky lessons and by loved, hated, was the progress reports on his niece's swimming that Liam would give him at the end of every lesson. Just another boost to the self esteem.

 

Zayn tried to remember why he never learned to swim, and why he never wanted to learn. It was hazy, his memory of that time in his formative years. He supposed it was the lack of control, the inability to breath, the necessity to surrender, give yourself wholly to the water was paralyzing for him. He liked solid ground, the feel of the earth beneath his feet, crisp air licking at his skin.

 

One day, Liam was nowhere to be found. Zayn and Nadira had been waiting for some time when they finally asked Niall.

 

"Oh yeah. He's had a family emergency, he will be off this week and next," explained Niall. He flipped through a logbook. "Would you mind terribly if you had a different instructor today?" he asked. Zayn wasn't sure who though.

 

"Nadira?" Zayn nudged her. She looked up at him and just shrugged. 

 

"Whateva! I don't really care I just wanna swim!" she exclaimed waving her arms at Niall who watched with an amused smile. 

 

"Okay then, well let's see who's available then...we've got a Harry...but he's always late. Never know what he's up to. Why don't I ring him. Do you mind waiting a short bit?"

 

"It's fine. We can wait, right Nadira?" Zayn asked. She nodded her head fiercely and dragged him by the arm to the edge of the pool. She plopped down next to the gutter and immediately dipped her feet up to her mid calf into the water. She patted the tiles next to her and looked expectantly at Zayn. 

 

Zayn swallowed the lump in his throat. He toed off his trainers and awkwardly pulled his socks off, placing them inside the shoes. He ambled slowly toward the pool's edge. Slowly he lowered himself into a seated position, knees braced against his chest, far from actually touching the water. He let out a deep breath. Nadira splashed lightly and let out a giggle every now and then. Zayn groaned internally. His stomach was all in knots. She was oblivious to her uncle's discomfort.

 

 "Hey Unca Zayn how come you don't put your feet in the water?" 

 

"Yeah, Uncle Zayn how come you don't put your feet in the water?" a deep, chocolate melting voice queried. It was strangely familiar. Zayn started and whipped his head around. 

 

Above him towered a half naked man in bright, banana yellow, incredibly short swim trunks. Of course, it was the model type bloke who he smoked with last week, but it wasn't. His hair was untamed today, held back by some sort of head band. To Zayn's surprise, he had a littering of nonsensical tattoos, including a large butterfly on his upper abdomen. Even stranger, he wore a pair of neon orange floaties. Zayn just stared. And the bloke stared back. For an uncomfortable amount of time. The other man clearly recognized him. Zayn's face blazed with shame. The man was still extremely attractive in spite of his strange array of interesting body art and various swimming accessories. He looked even taller unclothed and rather lithe, still growing into his frame. Overall quite as fit as Zayn had originally prescribed. 

 

"Right..." the man snapped out of his stupor began to ramble, "Hullo, I'm Harry, your niece's substitute swim instructor I suppose...pleasure to meet you. Sorry for being late. I was caught in a spot of traffic." He let out a long laugh. Harry smiled blindingly, his dimples seemed permanent fixtures on his face.

 

Zayn figured it would be best for him to stand up at this point. He seethed as put his palms down on the very wet pool deck, and eased his way onto his feet. He wiped his palms on his trousers. "Uncle Zayn." He held out his right hand. Harry shook it vigorously, holding into Zayn's hand for longer than necessary, his eyes shining a bright green, or was it gold, Zayn couldn't tell. Zayn noticed that Harry managed to tower over him even when standing, which caused him of course to shrink into himself a little bit more. In part because of shame, he definitely must have been desperate when he had gotten that smoke the other day.

 

He retracted his hand and shook it out behind his back. Man had a firm grip! "This is Nadira," he nudged Nadira towards Harry. She stumbled forward as Zayn slowly retreated to gather his trainers and some dignity. 

 

"Hey!" the deep, velvety voice interrupted again. Zayn leaned into it and cocked his head towards Harry. He felt Harry's lips graze the shell of his ear as Harry whispered, "Sorry for sneaking up on you earlier. And sorry for taking the piss at you a bit. I won't tell anyone about the other day either, your secret is safe with me. You seem like a cool guy, so I just wanted to make it up to you by offering my services..."

 

"Excuse me," Zayn spluttered, hoping Nadira had not heard her new swim instructor propositioning her Uncle. While Zayn was out to his family, like any functional adult he didn't like to pick people up when with his three year old niece.

 

"No I meant-" stuttered Harry, stepping back. His face bright red, he buried it in his hands, "Ahh, what I meant was, I would be happy to give you swim lessons for no charge if you'd like. I noticed that well you, Niall..." 

 

Zayn blinked. "That's very thoughtful, but no thanks. How about you teach my niece and leave it at that?" he snapped tightly before Harry could finish. He managed to keep his gaze level with Harry's eyes and not the enticing treasure trail leading into the fully packed yellow swim shorts. Harry didn't respond. Had he been too harsh? He felt the lump usually in his throat, settle deep in his gut.

 

"Um, cool, well I'll just go teach little Nadira here," Harry trailed off, as if he had never been rejected before. Zayn chuckled internally, with a face like that he'd probably never had been. He watched as Harry swooped down to pick his niece up. Harry looked genuinely interested in whatever the three year old was saying, because he kept nodding, and flashing his teeth at her. Zayn felt a pang of regret harden for being so quick to shoot him down. If anything he'd have gotten stare at the other boy in an environment that was perhaps more appropriate than his current staring and back alley smoking. 

 

Harry did a giant canon ball into the pool, splashing Zayn, who was a little too distracted to care. One might think he was just cautiously watching Nadira, but alas he was barely keeping himself from drooling as he followed the rivulets of water sluice over Harry's biceps and his entire form actually. He then enthusiastically beckoned Nadira into the water. Zayn's heart leaped into his throat as she flung her pink swim suit clad body into Harry's waiting arms.

 

Every so often Zayn would quickly sneak a look at the man and then switch back to scrutinizing the ink accumulating under his fingernails to avoid Harry's gaze that wandered his way every few minutes. Zayn kicked himself after a long bout of staring as Harry gave him a downright filthy smirk. He then lasciviously licked his lips. All hot and bothered, Zayn settled on just pulling his phone out and writing some notes for his thesis, trying the entire time to ignore Harry's persistent leer. 

  

...

 

"Hey so, we are all finished up here," Harry jarred Zayn out of his musing. Harry had a hand on the small of Nadira's back. Zayn couldn't help but irrationally feel jealous. His hands were strangely beautiful and delicate in spite of their rather large size. He had noticed when Harry had retrieved a smoke for him the other day. Zayn just nodded packing his notes deftly into his messenger bag. He then reached for Nadira's towel to find he had forgotten to pack it. 

 

"Sweet pea, I think I might have forgotten your towel, do you mind wearing Unca Zayn's flannel?" Zayn began to shrug off his top layer.

 

"No need," Harry interjected. He offered his own towel, it was fluffy, huge and blue. He grabbed it where it had been slung over the bench and promptly wrapped Nadira in it. 

 

"Oh, you don't have to," weakly escaped Zayn's lips, too late. Harry just sent another blinding grin Zayn's way. Zayn's stomach churned. He always did have a soft spot for doofy looking, tall guys. Note to self, get laid, thought Zayn. 

 

While Zayn regularly had sex with his girlfriend Perrie from university that chapter of his life had closed two years or so ago, well mostly because Perrie walked in on him dry humping his then flatmate Louis. It was surprisingly not as awkward and horrible as it should have been. Perrie had apparently been meaning to talk to Zayn about his sexuality, but he evidently had beat her to it. They were still quite good friends and Louis and him opted to keep their friendship strictly PG. Besides he had met Eleanor practically the next day. Since Perrie, though, he hadn't been in a serious relationship. He went to a few clubs on Louis's insistence but he wasn't too much of a fan of the guys there. Plus hooking up wasn't something he was as interested in post university years.

 

"Like what you saw?"

 

Zayn snorted, "Pardon?"

 

"You know, the lesson. How'd little Nadira look?"

 

"Oh right, course, yeah she looked super good, better than I would…So shall I just wash this and return it next time?" Zayn saved. He rubbed Nadira's shoulders in a futile attempt to keep her from catching a chill. Harry's towel was quite soft to touch. Zayn struggled to bite back the urge to stroke Harry's goose flesh, which had appeared all over his arms.

 

"That's fine, yeah. So we'll see you on Thursday then, unless you want another instructor. Which I could understand. Some people don't like all of these," Harry laughed, pointing to his smattering of tattoos.

 

"Nah, we like tattoos," Zayn began, "Doesn't really matter what I think, though does it. What do you think Nadira?" 

 

"I think I like Harry even more than Liam! Shhh," she whispered, "we can keep him forever right? I like his birdies on his chest! And the big butterfly on his tummy."

 

"I guess that's a yes, then. Poor poor Liam," Harry grinned. 

 

"See you Thursday then," Zayn gave a small wave and slight smile. 

 

"Yeah, I can't wait," Harry winked saucily. Zayn could have sworn he heard his heart stutter in his chest. He rapidly gathered all of his and Nadira's things. 

 

In the car ride home, Nadira babbled on and on about Harry. Apparently in their half hour lesson she had learned quite a lot. She cooed about how he was super cool and an amazing swimmer. She said he swam in uni.  She explained to Zayn that he had four nipples and an older sister whose name is Gemma. Zayn held back more than a fair share of groans. 

 

It was going to be a long summer.


	2. Lesson 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn bumbles and stumbles and maybe falls a little bit more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

"So who's this Harry fellow I keep hearing all about, Zed? Nadira won't shut up about him. Says he's got loads of tattoos, seems right up your alley, eh?" Doniya said nonchalantly as she stirred her tea one morning.

 

"He's the swimming instructor, yeah. Suppose he's alright." Zayn shrugged. He took a sip of his own tea. It scalded the back of his throat. Zayn would be lying if he said he hadn't thought of Harry much more than necessary. Those teeny yellow shorts really were something. They were pretty much ingrained into Zayn's memory, as were the horridly random tattoos.

 

"Sure..." his sister smirked behind her cup, "How's Nadira taking to the lessons? Think she's going to be a decent swimmer one day? I'll never hear the end of it from Dev if she's not, blah blah your genes suck blah blah."

 

Zayn lazily searched for an answer. Considering he either smoked or drooled over Harry during the lessons, he hadn't actually ended up watching his niece that much. "Uh, yeah he looks really good. Loads better than I would at any rate," he managed.

 

"He?"

 

"Freudian slip, you know. Nadira's on her way to be a proper good little swimmer," Zayn muttered barely holding back a groan, "You know it's really early, I never wake up this early."

 

"Mhmmm. That's what they always say. Anyways I've got to go, else I'll be late. Don't think I've forgotten this conversation, we'll talk about this Harry later. And Zayn I just want to make sure, you're alright, with the swimming? I know you don't like to, but I'm just so engaged at work right now, can barely spare a second."

 

"Don't sweat about it Doniya. At least more than one Malik will be able to swim now, I guess." 

 

"Right then, laters. Be back round 7ish I reckon. Head round to the market later if you get the chance. Got to get some groceries before Dev gets back from his work trip." 

 

"Will do. Bye," Zayn yawned. He was quite knackered. He had made some serious headway with his thesis last night well really up until a half hour ago. Powered through about twenty pages and all. Course he still wasn't quite sure what he was actually proving. Something like a comparative analysis of representations of Don Quixote and other womanizers in 15th through 16th century literature--Zayn's head throbbed even thinking about it now.

 

It's Tuesday, Zayn thought with a grumble. Time for another swimming lesson. This time Zayn would be steeled. His mind tempered, he would refrain from making a total arse of himself in front of Harry, whose last name he didn't even know. In fact, Zayn didn't know the first thing about the lad. Did he live in town? Was he a student? Why did he pick those tattoos? Did he even like blokes or was he just being incredibly and overly friendly and flirtatious? Just a few questions among the many Zayn had for him.

 

More than that, Zayn thought about Harry the model, the one who he copped a fag from and had an intensely long stare at. Harry had been so very different that day. Cool, even. Zayn had trouble reconciling the tall and handsome with ace sartorial choices with the bubbly, eccentric swim instructor. 

 

He glanced at the time. Nearly nine, time to rouse Nadira. He was a bit surprised she hadn't woken up earlier.

...

 

"Well, hello there," waved an enthused Niall. He looked more peppy than the usual today if possible; a snapback perched backwards on his head. "I reckon that swim suit will win Harry right over!" Nadira was wearing a swimsuit with a strawberry and banana print on it. Zayn had picked a couple new suits out a few days earlier. They were all extremely cute.

 

"Harry's finishing up a lesson, so you can all sit down for a bit," Niall explained. Zayn nodded and he and Nadira headed over to sit on their usual bench.

 

Zayn was glad he had chosen to wear a tank as he had already broken into a sweat upon entering the facility. He was sure it was nerves about the pool and not because of certain someone. But maybe it was both. It was sweltering in the pool, the heat nearly oppressive. Zayn nearly felt his hair wilting. Gross. His only consolation was that the tank showcased his most recent tattoos, which he knew looked good. As a gift to himself for the end of that school year, Zayn had gotten a snake inked, it was coiled onto his right shoulder, tongue flicking out. 

 

Today Harry was wearing another pair of obscenely tiny swim shorts, though they were a pink, white and yellow sort of wavy stripe pattern. Alas, no floaties, thankfully. Instead some of his unruly hair was swept into a hair elastic and sticking straight up above his forehead. It looked rather like a palm tree, out of place, something more fitting for a child. Somehow although comical, it worked. 

 

Harry yet again caught Zayn mid-ogle. His face broke into grin worthy of the Cheshire Cat, which was funny because Zayn was pretty sure he was from Cheshire, if the accent and slow talking were anything.  Harry grinned almost manically as he lumbered over towards Zayn in what seemed like slow motion. He was most definitely flexing, Zayn chortled to himself. Along the way he grabbed a water bottle, and casually doused his already chlorine slick body with remaining water in it. Zayn's struggled to keep his jaw from dropping. What a total show off. He looked absolutely ridiculous, strutting across the pool deck, he seemed to wiggle his hips an awful lot as he sauntered as well. Somehow this shouldn't be attractive at all and Zayn knew it. But there was something magnetic about his farcical behavior. Courting gone wrong and yet Zayn found all of it enthralling, and when he glanced around he noticed quite a few mums drinking in Harry's form. 

 

"Hullo Nadira," Harry greeted his niece, completely ignoring Zayn. He knelt so he could be eye level with her. Nadira perked up and began conversing in some secret language consisting of dolphin calls and seal barks with Harry. Of course, Zayn mused, Nadira would have a leg up on him already. Zayn thusly occupied himself by furiously sifting through and reorganizing his notes. He was

 

"Hi Uncle Zayn," rolled off of Harry's tongue after what seemed like an eternity. Zayn decided he liked the way Harry said his name, all long and slow, like pulling taffy or pouring molasses. 

 

"Harry," Zayn leveled, refusing to look up from his notes.

 

"I quite like your sleeve, couldn't see it last time, with flannel and all, can I?" Harry approached. Zayn permitted himself to breath a little. Then Harry knelt beside where Zayn was perched, and gently took Zayn's right arm into his hands. 

 

"Thanks. Designed it myself." Harry's brow furrowed as he turned Zayn's forearm over in his hands. Zayn bit back a gasp when Harry's thumbs brushed over more sensitive parts of his arm, the delicate skin of the inside of this wrist, the crease by his elbow joint. Harry's inspection was more than thorough. He seemed intent on worshipping Zayn's arm, in the way he traced the lines on certain tattoos and his silent veneration.

 

"Well I guess that explains why they're so lovely," Harry finally murmured, his voice a whisper on Zayn’s skin. This sent Zayn's stomach into turmoil. What to do. Play it cool? He felt out of his element. Flirting as an adult seemed weird, childish even. Zayn could barely recall the last time he danced around someone like this. With women it had always seemed way simpler. He could just smile and smolder a bit and they melted. It helped that most of these situations occurred outside of a pool area. The chlorine did wreak something awful on Zayn's senses. Luckily, Harry took Zayn's lack of response as a response and was already ushering Nadira into the pool. 

 

The lesson was passing by much quicker than normal, thought Zayn. Perhaps it was because he was having fun, an odd perversion of it anyways. He felt peculiarly bereft no longer with Harry in his personal face, fingers branding his already inked skin. He still imagined the ghosts of Harry's fingertips lingering over his skin, a teasing afterthought, an enticing memory. Zayn shivered just remembering the fragility with which Harry approached his sleeve, the reverence he exuded with his bowed head and serious contemplation of each inked design.

 

Zayn happily spent the half hour by mostly staring Harry's back muscles for the entire half hour. The tosser didn't even have the decency to face Zayn once during the whole lesson. Not that Zayn was complaining. If it was Harry he supposed he could deal with a cold shoulder or two. He had gotten the opportunity to get very familiar with Harry's deltoids and trapezius muscles, which were frankly more than satisfactory. Zayn even allowed his mind to wander, imagining how it might feel to run his hands over those muscles, feel their heat and the sheen of sweat that arises during any locomotive activities---it was almost too much. In his reverie, he fantasized about Harry’s ridiculous tattoos and had particular focus on the sort of dimpled areas right above his bum.

 

"What are you thinking about, Uncle Zayn," asked Harry. Zayn was startled out of his thoughts yet again. 

 

He nearly blushed, quickly recovering, "Just about how good Nadira's getting at swimming." He gave his niece a high five. 

 

"I'd have to agree. She's going to be fantastic by the summer's end! Just think she's only three," Harry said carefully. Zayn nodded. He then wrapped Nadira into her towel while half listening to Harry ramble about Nadira's newly acquired swimming skills and how the lesson went. 

 

"Bugger, I've totally forgotten about your towel. Would you mind awfully waiting til next week?" Zayn could have smacked himself. He was thinking so much about Harry and somehow it had completely evaded him to launder the man's damned towel.

 

"Not to worry. I think I'll live." Harry flicked his hair spraying water a bit on Zayn. Instead of apologizing like any normal person would, he took off the towel slung low across his hips and used the corner of it to wipe some water off of Zayn's face. He lingered in Zayn's personal space for much too long. Zayn could feel Harry's breath against his face and the pungent smell of chlorine on his person nearly overpowered Harry's intense gaze. The man's were a darker shade of green, pupils dilated slightly. Harry then for the briefest of moments ran his thumb across Zayn's chin, towel still in place on one of Zayn's cheeks. Harry leaned forward a millimeter.

 

"Got it," he whispered, then abruptly pulled out of Zayn's space.

 

 Zayn was at a loss for words. He swallowed. And then remembered where he was. In a pool with bunches of young children and his own niece hanging off his leg. Shaking himself out of his stupor he let out a strangled laugh. "Thanks, Harry. I guess we'll see you next week right, yeah." Zayn retreated tail between legs, Nadira tagging along.

...

 

Once he got home and bathed Nadira, Zayn put her down for a nap. He decided it best to head to the grocer's now. Since returning home, he had been rather rotten at getting any academic work done anyways. Grabbing Doniya's list, he headed out.

 

Zayn thought he liked Manchester possibly more than London. It was smaller for one, and he found a certain quaintness to many neighborhoods that London didn't really offer. He supposed it helped that United played much closer too him here than in London and even Bradford. He figured there was a certain anonymity he afforded in Manchester too, considering he had only lived there a few months in the summer for the past three years. 

 

It was nice too. Reconnecting with Doniya and getting to her husband a bit better. Their mum had been rather unhappy about the move out to Manchester, which Zayn was thankful for. Since Doniya was the first to move out, when Zayn moved to London the year after, his mum wasn’t nearly as hysterical as she would have been.

 

Zayn drummed his thumbs on the steering wheel as he waited to make the turn into the grocer's car park. He made the turn and drove round a bit until he pulled into an empty spot. Zayn grabbed his list exited the vehicle. He kept his head down as he walked into the grocer’s; grabbing a cart he groaned once he entered the store. It had a wobbly wheel. Zayn grimaced, hearing it squeak as he pushed it down an aisle.

 

Finally, he turned into the veggie aisle and began to sort through some of the tomatoes. To be honest, Zayn hadn’t much of a clue on how to pick proper veggies. He supposed it was worthwhile that Doniya was having him learn how to be a functional human being by making him perform mundane errands, ones essential to quotidian life of course. Mindlessly Zayn tossed a few tomatoes of different varieties into a plastic bag. He then moved over to the eggplants, when suddenly a hand clasped firmly onto his shoulder, causing him to drop several of the eggplants onto the ground. Zayn nearly jumped out of his skin at the steady grasp.

 

"'Lo, Uncle Zayn. Fancy seeing you here."  Harry offered a playful grin.

 

"Fuck me," Zayn muttered under his breath as he bent over to pick up the fallen veggies. Harry did so too at the same time, causing them to knock heads. Zayn's vision was swimming.

 

"Damn, sorry about that, I'm quite clumsy out of the water it seems," Harry offered, "You quite alright, then?" 

 

"Fantastic, just marvelous," Zayn replied, rubbing his forehead where it had connected with Harry's. He looked and saw that Harry once again was a bit too close for comfort. Thankfully, he had taken the silly little hair band out and was now wearing as sort of taupe coloured beanie. He had on a white t-shirt with a wide enough collar to expose the tops of the wings of his bird tattoos. He had on several necklaces that were all sort of tangled into one another as they dipped behind his shirt. Tight black jeans poured into short tawny leather boots. 

 

"Let me, I've got some frozen peas in here," Harry took Zayn's hand that had been on his forehead in his own and replaced it with the sac of frozen veggies. Zayn hissed as the cool kissed his tender skin. Harry was holding his hand still, which made Zayn's insides revolt, his stomach squirmed and his heart pounding in his chest.

 

"It's alright," Zayn finally found his voice. He didn’t know what was the matter with him. He felt he was always sort of speechless when it came to Harry. Harry discarded the frozen food and held up his forefinger as if to say wait. Still holding onto Zayn's hand he positioned his other hand on Zayn's cheek, mirroring it's position earlier that day. Then he leaned in further. Zayn's breath caught in his throat. Harry's eyes were mercurial, and he closed them before closing the distance and planting a gentle kiss on the tender skin of Zayn's forehead. 

 

"There all better now."

 

Zayn forehead burned where Harry's lips had touched. As if he were drunk, he blindly batted Harry's hand off the side of his face and hastily shook his hand out of Harry's. He cleared his throat, "Please just call me Zayn, it's fucking weird as all shit."

 

"I thought you'd never ask, Zayn," Harry replied, putting extra emphasis on his name, savoring it almost.

 

"So..."

 

"It's nice seeing you outside of the pool, you seem a lot more relaxed," Harry rambled, "Are you making dinner tonight? I'm rather find of cooking myself actually."

 

"Yeah? Your accent, you from Cheshire?" 

 

Harry nodded, "Holmes Chapel, tiny little village. Bradford?" Zayn nodded. Zayn shifted his feet a bit, this conversation had turned sufficiently awkward.

 

"Look, this may sound odd now, but my offer still stands. For the swim lessons that is. I happen to believe swimming to be one of life’s greatest joys, but regardless, I make an effort to teach adults who can’t actually."

 

"Suppose, I’ll think about it," Zayn said without hesitation. Because if he were honest, he had been thinking about it more than probably necessary. Harry in a teeny suit, Zayn in a slightly less audacious one, in a pool, touching. It sounded a lot less threatening if he put it that way. There was the whole pool obstacle of course.

 

"You will?" Harry looked surprised, both eyebrows raised up quite a bit.

 

"Yeah." Zayn shrugged, scratching his chin a bit, in an attempt to be a little more noncommittal, less eager.

 

"Good. Actually, wonderful, I'm glad." Harry flashed his teeth in a blinding smile. His dimples seemed more defined than ever. Humming, Harry then gathered some vegetables and a bushel of bananas and placed them with care in Zayn's basket.

 

"I think Nadira will like these. Potassium is good for your muscles. I'm sorry to leave you, but I'll see you soon right? Here's my number in case you change your mind before I next see you," Harry ripped a corner of his shopping list and scrawled on it. He slipped the scrap of paper into Zayn's hand and with a saucy wink he was gone.

 

Zayn felt rather out of body and puttered rather aimlessly, deliberating between different vegetables, wondering if anyone had been a witness to that interaction. His forehead was still warm, definitely because of the impending bruise though, not the kiss, he determined. Rather in a daze, he gathered himself and his basket and wandered down the next aisle. He squeezed Harry's number tight in his hand and slipped it into his back pocket for safekeeping.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The water bottle pouring was an idea I had a while back...but here's some real life inspiration I found proving Harry does do shit like that: [here](http://zayncangetsome.tumblr.com/post/65625470073/malikortreat-fyonedirection-this-is-not)


	3. Lesson 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn faces one of his fears and has a cuddle. Oh, and Louis comes to town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!!

Chapter 3

 

Zayn was gone. Gone for Harry that is. Just that morning he may have had a shameful wank picturing the bloke's lean frame and awful tattoos.  He felt like a sexually frustrated teenager, all raging hormones and incorrigible morning wood. Tueday afternoon's events had been pretty telling of Harry's interest, but not enough for Zayn's security. He couldn't be totally sure; Harry might just be overly friendly and flirtatious. Zayn had no evidence that Harry's behavior towards him was any different than how he treated others. 

 

To make matters worse, on Thursday, Nadira’s lesson had been uneventful at least in terms of Zayn and Harry’s pseudo-relationship. Harry had done a very fantastic job of completely ignoring him. Zayn wondered if he was meant to actually ring Harry up and have a chat with him. He had gotten his number after all. But each time he rang, he choked and had hung up several times when he heard a person pick up the phone. Frankly, he hadn’t actually thought through what he was going to say to the swim instructor. Zayn supposed he just needed some distraction and a little bit of spice in his increasingly mundane summer life.

 

Zayn wasn’t sure what possessed him, but he did eventually send a text message to Harry accepting his offer of swim lessons. Subsequent to sending the message he immediately powered down his phone and resolved to watching television with Nadira for the rest of the afternoon.

 

So on Friday morning, when he found himself on the pool deck in a borrowed pair of swimming shorts he was a little more than discomfited. Firstly, the shorts belonged to Dev, so they were too large. Even with the strings pulled tight, they rode precariously low on his hips. Harry had very promptly replied to Zayn’s message and suggested they have a morning lesson, if that was amenable to Zayn’s ‘busy’ schedule. Zayn nearly refused him, but remembered that Doniya was taking the day off because she had to pick Dev up from the airport that afternoon. Before he could change his mind, Zayn had shot Harry a message back saying that Friday at nine was perfect.

 

Harry as usual showed up late, leaving Zayn to watch a handful of elderly swimmers and the end of a water aerobics class. He was a bundle of nerves. Mostly because he did not actually want to learn how to swim. It was more of a ploy to get Harry’s attention, which was kind of strange considering Zayn did not even really know what he wanted from him. And when Harry finally did saunter in, it seemed like he made an effort to talk to nearly every single person in the pool before coming over to where Zayn sat.

 

“Hey Zayn, I’m frankly surprised you decided to do this, but quite glad.” He said as he stripped down, he was only wearing an orange speedo today. Zayn quickly diverted his gaze, he felt rather pervy when he was around Harry for some reason.

 

“Here take these,” Harry held out a pair of neon orange floaties.

 

“Are you serious?” Zayn asked, beginning to slide one onto his arm.

 

“Just a precaution you know. For all my first time swimmers,” Harry winked. Zayn couldn’t find a way to argue and just slipped the other on as well. He felt ridiculous, he didn’t remember Nadira having to wear them. He looked up and noticed Harry staring at him with a rather quizzical expression marring his features. Harry poked at one of the floaties, frowning.

 

“Got to make sure, they’re actually functional,” he murmured. He grasped the inflation tube between his thumb and forefinger and flipped its rubbery top open. Bending over slightly, he placed his mouth around it and began to blow air into the floatie. A strangled cry caught in Zayn’s throat. He couldn’t help but stare, completely entranced by Harry’s cheeks, which were puffed up full of air before he inflated the flotation device. Deeming the floatie acceptable, Harry diligently blew up the other one, whilst it was still on Zayn’s arm.

 

“All set then, let’s get in the water, shall we?” Harry smiled at Zayn, as if nothing he had just done was out of the ordinary in the slightest. Zayn nodded sort of slowly, still dumbfounded.

 

Harry made his way to the edge of the pool and slipped in. Zayn sort of just sat next to the stepladder, his feet nowhere near the water. Harry dipped his head back and wet his hair, plastering it back. It looked an awful lot like he just used way too much gel, Zayn mused. Harry walked towards Zayn. He definitely seemed a lot more graceful in the water.

 

“So, Zayn, are you ready to put our feet in at least?” Harry asked as if he were talking to a five year old.

 

Zayn responded by slipping his left foot into the pool. It was cold. He flinched and wanted to take it back, but gritted his teeth and kept his foot submerged.

 

“Both feet?”

  
Zayn took a deep breath in. And exhaled. Then he plunged his right foot in. He secretly hoped everyone else in the pool would leave so they didn’t have to witness this. He was embarrassed that he couldn’t swim and mortified that he had so much trouble even getting in the pool. It was like he was twelve years old at Jessica’s pool party all over again. Except this time, he was willingly entering the pool. Which he supposed made it altogether rather unlike that incident. Regardless, the fear sat lodged like a bullet in Zayn’s heart, his throat and his stomach. Scar tissue may have grown around it, but there was still a dull ache. A thudding, near paralyzing feeling gripped him.

 

Zayn wiped a hand across his brow. He had broken out in a cold sweat. He didn’t want to look Harry directly in the eye, but he also didn’t want to stare at the water. Instead he decided to close his eyes, like the child he had quickly reverted to.

 

“You know, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Harry said gently. He was now sitting besides Zayn on the edge of the pool. Zayn felt like a coward. And he was a grown man, he was not the scared, twelve year old anymore.

 

“No,” Zayn croaked, swallowing the lump in his throat, “I want to. I do.” Harry nodded in understanding.

 

“Okay. Good, as long as you’re it’s what you want.” Harry eased himself back into the water. “I’m right here, I’ll be right here the whole time. Plus you got your floaties on. You’re fine. It’s really shallow here too, look the water only comes up to my belly button.”

 

Zayn looked and saw Harry was right. He figured with their height difference, the water shouldn’t come anywhere near his throat or mouth, unless he purposefully went under. Resolving himself to at least get in the water today, he began to lower the rest of his legs into the water. His arms were tense on the edge of the pool as he let the water come over his lower body.

 

“That’s it, nice and easy,” Harry grinned, he held both of his hands out for Zayn to take in his. Heart hammering in his chest, Zayn grabbed Harry’s hands took the plunge. His feet very soon touched the tiled bottom of the pool. It felt surprisingly stable under his feet.

 

“You’re doing just fine.” 

…

Zayn slept fitfully after their lesson. He even missed dinner. In the end he didn’t get anywhere close to putting his face in the water. But he had lain on his back in the water, with Harry’s help. Lying on his bed now, he sort of missed the feel of Harry’s arms supporting him as he attempted to float. They hadn’t made any plans for their next lesson yet. But Zayn would see him soon.

 

“Unca Zayn,” a tiny voice, drew him out of his slumber. Nadira was standing at the edge of his bed.

 

“Huh?” Zayn sat up. He looked around spotting his alarm clock, it was nearly midnight.

 

“What are you doing up, sweetie?” Zayn asked as Nadira wiggled her way onto the bed. He took the toddler into his arms and snuggled her close, blowing rasberries on the chubby flesh of her stomach, and kissing her cheeks. She giggled, her laugh a bright, tinkling sound.

 

“Couldn’t sleep. Mummy and Daddy talking really loud!” she whispered.

 

“Are they now, well that’s not good is it? You can sleep here if you want to,” he mumbled.

 

“Hey Unca Zayn,” Nadira asked.

 

“Yeah?” Zayn snuffled into his pillow.

 

“I love you a lot.” Nadira squirmed a little in his arms, turning to face him. She planted a tiny kiss on the top of his nose.

 

In her quietest inside voice she whispered, “I have a secret. I love Harry, too. Will you be mad if I marry him?” Zayn nearly chortled, instead just smiled in the dark.

 

“Unca Zayn? Why you laughing?” Her plump hands tugged at Zayn’s cheeks and his facial hair. “You need to have less face hair, I don’t like it.”

 

“It’s just very funny Nadira, that’s all.”

 

“I wanted to tell you cuz Unca Zayn like Harry a lot,” Nadira explained, “But I can share. I like to share. Mummy says Harry is teaching Unca Zayn to swim too. So I know how to share.”

 

Zayn couldn’t help but smile at his three year old niece. She was already as taken with Harry as Zayn was. Somehow though, the small selfish part of Zayn was not sure how keen he was on sharing Harry. It also sort of scared him how perceptive she was. Spending so much time with Nadira had taught Zayn that children had a very clear way of seeing the world, even if no one listens to them. Zayn just hugged her tighter and planted a kiss on the top of her head. She giggled and they both nodded off.

… 

Zayn groaned. It had been a week since Harry’s lesson and he hadn’t seen Harry for that long. Dev had insisted upon taking Nadira to her lessons, as he wanted to see his little girl swim, and Zayn had been too reticent to actually give Harry a call. He didn’t think he would miss the chlorinated smells of the pool and watching Nadira splash around happily, but he did. Besides, it wasn’t as if he wanted to spend that much time with Dev joshing him about not being able to swim either.

 

Instead, Zayn determined to bury himself in thesis research. His progress was slow, but well worth it. Sometimes he imagined that Harry was quite the lothario, in another life. It was definitely in the cards. Harry was very popular among the swimming mothers and the little girls and boys he taught. A modern day example. Zayn just hoped he did not try to seduce everyone as he did Zayn.

 

Rubbing his temples, he hesitated to pick up an incoming ring from Louis. "Hey Zaynie, it is I, Louis,” blared from his mobile. Zayn cringed and contemplated just hanging up.

 

"'Lo. Why are you ringing so early? Something the matter?"  

 

"Oh you know, just thought I might call, before I show up...at your sister's house tonight to take you out for a chill get together."

 

"Louis, are you for real? Don't you have a job? You can't just pop over here whenever it pleases you. Hold on, aren’t you out in Doncaster?"

 

"Hush Zayn, it's already decided. Got the invite a while ago. Just kept forgetting to let you in. But I figure since it's in your neighborhood I might give you advance warning. Did you know there is a quite of few kids with whom I am acquainted who happen to live out by you? Perhaps I should have mentioned to them that you exist, well, you'll meet ‘em all tonight."

 

"Right, then, thanks a lot you tosser. Also you do realize I take care of a three year old and it’s Dev and Doniya’s date night. I can't just go clubbing about like you all the time. I've got priorities," Zayn laughed. 

 

"I reckon there'll be some fit people at this little party to. Who knows you might even get lucky!" 

 

"Okay then. Well, it’s been lovely chatting, but I've things to do, you know. I know you're proper lonely since Eleanor is on holiday with her parents, but come off it. Don't you have a thesis to write too?"

 

"You sound like a right crotchety old man. Besides, this isn't really a yes or no question, I've already responded to the invited and you're my plus one. So I'll be round later then."

 

"What time? I have errands to run and I have to cook for Nadira tonight."

 

"Now that's a laugh," Louis snorted.

 

"Rude." 

 

"Maybe around 7 or 8? Party doesn't start til 10, so don’t throw a fit, you will have loads of time to powder your nose and do your stupid hair. I’m sure Dev and Doniya will have had their little date by then as well."

 

"S’not stupid, okay. You’re just jealous. I am sure it’ll be fine. Well see you then, yeah?"

 

"Whatever you say. See you later, mate. And don't be so uptight." The line disconnected.

 

It was nearly nine pm when Louis finally came round. Zayn was not surprised in the least. Typical Tomlinson behavior, showing up whenever he pleases. Though it was really because he was a bollocks driver. Louis greeted Doniya and Dev, who had actually gone out for an early dinner, with a big hug and a box of chocolates. He complimented her home and asked them the perfunctory questions about Dev’s job and her job and the weather in Manchester. He then smooched a big kiss on each of Nadira's chubby cheeks. She had stayed up late just to see Uncle Lou, who ooed and awed over her, telling her how grown up she was now compared to the last time he saw her. 

 

Zayn luckily was already in his kit, hair already styled to perfection. It was an art, in itself, one he had mastered over the many years of having flat boring hair. Even Nadira rather liked his hair this way. Said it made Unca Zayn look much better, more cool. He decided on wearing one of his nicer pair of black skinny jeans, the one without the rips, and a plain grey shirt, along with his favorite leather jacket. And of course, he could never go wrong with his doc martens.

 

Louis turned to Zayn and gave him a rough slap on the back. He almost reached up to ruffle Zayn's hair, but stopped when he saw it had been done up. Louis grinned, his blue eyes nearly gleaming. "Long time no see, feels like forever mate." 

 

"It's only been a month, miss me that much?" quipped Zayn dryly. In truth, he too had missed Louis, life was not quite the same without him, rather trite and boring really.

 

"You know me, can never be left alone."

 

"Well, I'm going to put Nadira to bed now. She is probably knackered from her play date today. Have fun tonight boys! Be safe." Doniya made her way out, leaving the three men alone.

 

“So Louis have you heard, Zayn is finally learning to swim,” Dev said conversationally. Zayn glanced over at him. He could never decide whether he liked Dev or not. Even back when his sister and Dev were just dating, Zayn wasn’t quite sure about him.

 

“Is he now?” Louis’ eyebrows raised impressively high on his forehead.

 

“He is indeed, he’s got the same teacher as little Nadira,” Dev replied. Zayn just nodded. Dev had a way of turning all conversations slightly uncomfortable. The three men just sort of stared silently at one another, waiting for someone to speak up.

 

Finally, Dev said, “Well, you kids enjoy yourselves. And don’t get into any trouble or anything. I am going to go watch the game or something.”

 

Zayn and Louis just stared at one another, and then burst out into a fit of giggling. Dev was an interesting character. Zayn was just glad that Doniya had the sense and uncanny ability to bend him to her will. Or else he’d probably get super annoying. Zayn would support his sister in anything, and after all, Dev wasn’t a bad guy really. He was just a bit of a square around Zayn and his friends.

 

"Ahh I see your hair is already perfect," Louis ran a hair through his own purposely disheveled hair, "You on the pull or something?" He eyed Zayn up and down knowingly.

 

"Nah, just felt like dressing up a bit, you know."

 

"Whatever you say," Louis could barely contain his smirk. He had grown more exuberant since the end of the academic year. Zayn supposed he had time to rejuvenate while away from his studies.

 

"So, how's your mum doing?" Zayn asked as they left the house. Louis just shrugged, unlocking his car.

 

"Good I guess. Whinged a lot about how I never visit her enough. The regular. Lord knows I'll be full for days she cooked so much. So Zayn, enough about me, how are you? How’s Manchester? Hitting up the town, making loads of friends? Slagging about?" Louis slipped into the driver's seat.

 

"Yah, you know me. Louis, I told you I’ve just been chilling with Nadira and catching up with Doniya. Wahliya is coming up next weekend. It’s been a nice change though, calm,” Zayn sighed, “Where is this party again?" Zayn buckled himself in.

 

"I don't actually know, I guess we'll find out soon!" Louis said, punching in an address on his GPS.

 

"I should have known..." Zayn leaned back in his chair with a huff. With any hope, Louis navigating skills had improved some in the last month. But considering he had shown up nearly two hours late, Zayn doubted. Zayn was pretty sure they would never actually get to the party. Even with the GPS Louis seemed to have great difficulty making his way to new places. Zayn assumed it was because he had an issue with taking direction.

 

"Remind me again why are we driving?" 

 

"I got a hotel booked literally a block from the party right, so you can just sleep over, yeah? We’ll have a proper slumber party." Zayn didn't know why he always seemed to agree to Louis' plans.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah. So I have two more chapters written out, and I'm nowhere near done, really. Not sure where this is going! Update every Sunday is still going though! :)


	4. Lesson 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn feels lonely, then not so lonely, and learns how to breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh. So I've decided this will be about 7 chapters total. :)  
> There is an illustration accompanying this chapter. I may also draw some more stuff for other parts as well, if I have time.

The half hour of driving was much more stressful than it should have been. Zayn had barked out directions, fiddled with the GPS, and nearly been slammed headfirst into the dashboard. Zayn was a little frazzled and more than a bit ready to bolt from the vehicle when Louis finally pulled up in front of a warehouse with a mob of people milling about in a queue that went around the block. 

 

"A small get together? This is Tiger Tiger Louis, it's the biggest club in Manchester!"

 

"Is it really?" Louis flicked his blinkers on, coming to a stop in front of the valet.

 

"Seriously? Valet?"

 

"What? It's covered tonight. We are on the guest list." 

 

"Whose party is this anyways?" Zayn watched the scantily clad women tripping about on the street through the tinted window. 

 

"Some bloke called Nick Grimshaw, he’s a friend of a friend. He went to Liverpool with Josh, graduated few years ago I think. He grew up near here, throws a big summer holidays party at a hot club each summer," explained Louis.

 

"A small get together," Zayn scoffed, unbuckled and reluctantly got out of the car. 

 

"Don't sweat it Zayn, we're going to a private room, apparently it’s roped off and everything," Louis handed his keys to the valet. 

 

The bouncer unhooked the velvet rope once Louis had told him their names. Zayn watched as he checked something off on a clipboard. Louis swaggered into the club and was led by a woman with an extremely low cut top through the main bar area and up a spiral staircase to a loft area. The loft had a sort of plexiglass or some clear walls that surrounded it. Music from downstairs still pulsed but it was slightly muted. The glow of the whitish lights illuminated the high factory windows of the whole club, lending a sort of eerie light to the lofted area. White leather couches and sad looking tiger fur rugs were scattered throughout. There was a bar smaller than the one in the main section, glowing in a humming pinks and purples. People were lazing about the couches; seated at the bar, drink in one hand, smoking with the other. Zayn didn't recognize a single person.

 

Louis punched Zayn lightly in the arm. He surveyed the scene. "Let's get drinks shall we, then we mingle," Louis decided, dragging Zayn by the elbow to the bar. Louis waved his arms over his head at the bar attempting to get then bartender's attention. 

 

"I think I'm going to need some shots," said Zayn. Louis just chuckled at that. He ordered something and slapped down a few quid on the bar before Zayn could even reach for his wallet.

 

The bartender leaned over and said above the din, "It's open bar, Mr. Grimshaw is covering everything!"

 

"My kind of man," Louis snatched back up his money. He then handed Zayn his shot. Zayn didn't even bother asking what it was, just leveled the amber liquid with Louis and the two clinked their shot glasses.

 

Zayn nearly cursed when the bitter liquid burned in the back of his throat. "Jack Daniels, really?" 

 

"Just trying to keep the class up here," Louis snapped his fingers at the bartender and ordered two more rounds. 

 

"Oh look it's Grimshaw! Let's say hi," Zayn felt himself being tugged away from his shot and jerked to face a man who was rather on the taller side. He was wearing a tight fitted, navy, near purple suit. 

 

"Hey Louis, you alright, then? How's it out in Doncaster these days?" he greeted warmly, patting Louis on the shoulder. 

 

"Oh Grimmy, just fine just fine. Doncaster is the same. And by the way have you met my flatmate Zayn?" Louis elbowed Zayn forward.

 

"Nick Grimshaw, pleasure," Nick shook Zayn's hand. Nick's had a similar sort of quiff as Zayn. Zayn hoped his did not look as flouffy and ridiculously springy as it did on Nick.

 

"Zayn Malik. Great party you have here," Zayn waved his hand sort of aimlessly around. He wished he had drank more. Nick must have been bored with him because he had already moved on to the next set of guests, dragging Louis along with him. Zayn sighed. He felt like this always happened. Louis socialized with everyone and Zayn just kind of sat and watched.

 

Zayn headed straight back to the bar and ordered the house drink, some near poisonous orange, spiced concoction that smelled of antiseptic and pine sol. As he sipped a bit of his drink, he moved to sit at the counter of the loft area, which overlooked the main bar and dance floor. His throat burned as he swallowed and he nearly gagged once or twice. It had been a while since he had something so pungent. 

 

Surveying the mass of gyrating bodies below, Zayn downed the rest of his drink, he definitely needed it tonight if he was going to pull any one. Which he just might, to alleviate the frustration he seemed to be having with a certain someone.  Though, the club clientele as well as Nick's guests seemed a little out of Zayn's league. B-list socialites and loads of really attractive model types. Finally he stood up and swaying a bit. Then a flash of something caught his eye.

 

Nearly in the dead center of the dance floor, was none other than Harry. He wore a black shirt silk button down, with what appeared to be white hearts patterning it. His hair was slicked back slightly, and artfully so. He had on tight black jeans again. Zayn's heart dropped, he currently had his arms slung around some emaciated, blonde girl. He wouldn't say he was jealous though, because Harry looked like a rather awkward dancer, long limbs flailing and whipping out every so often, besides Zayn didn't even like to dance.

 

Out of the blue, Harry glanced up towards the loft area. Zayn ducked slowly but was sure he was seen. Summoning some liquid courage he looked down again, and met Harry's eyes. They were bright even in the dim lighting of the club. Harry whispered something into the blonde's ear. A spike of jealousy went to Zayn's stomach. Harry only seemed to pull the girl closer to himself. 

 

"Watcha staring at, Zed?!" Louis slung an arm around Zayn's neck. Zayn leaned into his arm. He looked up to Louis and gave a small smile. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that both Harry and the girl were both gone. What a tease, Zayn felt disappointed. 

 

"Oh no one," Zayn gave a dismissive wave of his hand. 

 

"Here want another drink?" Louis set a glass of curious blue liquid before Zayn. 

 

"I'm alright. You having fun?"

 

"Why yes, yes I am. But you mister are not. Stop being such a bore man, let's go dance! The dj is not too bad." Louis pressed a sloppy kiss into Zayn's temple, patting insistently on Zayn's back. He rubbed his hands up and down on Zayn's jacket.

 

"Quit it man," Zayn shrugged him off.

 

"Ooh, now this is a fit one," Louis elbowed Zayn right in the ribs, "look look, he's coming over."

 

Zayn turned slowly. Harry was stalking over towards them like some kind of predatory cat. He was definitely taking the club’s name a little too seriously, Zayn thought. Harry had managed to shake the blonde girl, as he was now alone. Zayn swallowed the lump in his throat and waved at Harry. 

 

"Hullo Zayn, long time no see. Didn’t expect to see you here. Though I'm hardly surprised Grimmy knows everyone." Harry took a step into Zayn's personal space. Zayn took a sharp inhale drinking in Harry's tangy musk. It was nice that he didn't smell like chlorine in the slightest.

 

"Harry. I don't actually, Louis does," Zayn patted Louis' arm, which was still wound around his neck. Harry didn't say anything, he just sort of glared almost. Louis finally removed his arm from Zayn.

 

"So I have been thinking we should set a time for our next lesson," Zayn began breaking the silence that had come over the trio. Zayn took a sip of the blue drink, it was repulsive.

 

"Really, now?" Harry raised a surprised eyebrow. Zayn supposed he did have a right to be confused, since he hadn’t contacted Harry since the previous week.

 

"Ahh, you must be Nadira and Zayn’s swim instructor then," interrupted Louis, "I’m glad you’re teaching Zayn to swim. It's always so depressing when we go on holiday. You should totally see him, he just sits round on the sand all pouty 'n' stuff."

 

"I bet." Harry leaned closer into Zayn, angling his body so that his back is towards Louis. Louis took the hint and backed away a little bit. Zayn could see he was clearly amused with the recent turn of events. He kept grinning and giving Zayn a thumb’s up. Zayn did not look forward to that conversation of Louis, who so loved to take the piss at him.

 

"So?" Harry whispered huskily, his breath hot on Zayn's neck.

 

Zayn finally remembered he should probably speak, too entranced by Harry's close proximity and the buzz of alcohol in his veins. "I’d like to have another," fell from his lips before he could stop himself. Harry's lips pulled back to reveal his straight, very white teeth, his dimples defining his cheeks. Zayn’s heart thrummed in his chest.

 

"How about we have one tonight?" 

 

"Eager? Aren't you plastered off your ass as well," Zayn barked, before he could stop himself.

 

"He clearly just wants to see you naked," Louis piped up. Zayn may have elbowed him, hard right in the ribs.

 

"You got me," Harry held his hands up, "And I'm actually sober."

 

"I've had a few, so it's probably not the best of ideas," Zayn said reluctantly. 

 

"Nah, I reckon he'll be just fine. I entreat you Harold, he's all yours," Louis winked, pushing Zayn into Harry.

 

"It's Harry. So, what you think Zayn? We could just do some basic stuff in the shallows, anyways. Don’t forget, I’m an excellent teacher." 

 

Louis snorted rather loudly. "Yeah why not, Zed, go for a dip. I'll hold down the fort here. I have plenty of friends and interesting folks to meet."

 

"Fine."

 

Harry gave another blinding smile. And wrapped an arm around Zayn's shoulders, hauling him to his feet. 

 

"I promise you won't regret it," Harry hummed and began ushering Zayn towards the spiral stairs. Zayn looked back as they left, Louis shot him a cheeky grin and waved. Zayn felt bad he hadn’t thanked Grimshaw, but could not be stopped. Zayn blushed he imagined the eyes of everyone on him, leaving the club with possibly the fittest blokes there. 

 

…

 

Zayn and Harry walked for almost an hour, during which Zayn sobered up a bit. For a summer evening, it was rather nippy. He wrapped his free arm around himself. Somehow, his other hand had ended up wound in Harry's, their fingers laced together loosely. The majority of the walk was spent in companionable silence, in part because Zayn wasn't much for talking and was too busy questioning his life choices. It was nice though, Zayn liked the feel of Harry's hand, the weight of it in his own.

 

"Wait a tic," Zayn stopped dead in his tracks, "Are pools even open this late?" 

 

"Just be patient." The corner of Harry's mouth was upturned, into a mischievous smirk.

 

The pair finally arrived in front of an impressive building. Zayn couldn't really make it out, but it was fairly modern looking, all sharp angles, high ceilings and large windows. Harry led Zayn into an alley and up a flight of stairs. It looked like a delivery entrance. He knocked on the door, near the door handle. After no response, he violently jiggled the handle. Finally the door popped open with a rusty squeak. Zayn giggled, he felt giddy almost at how this evening was turning out. It was almost as if Zayn had been transported back to his secondary school days, sneaking around and trespassing onto property and whatnot.

 

"I used to come here when I was in Uni visiting home. I happen to like midnight swims, you see," Harry explained, leading Zayn down an unlit corridor. Normally Zayn would have been a bit scared, he figured Harry's self assurance helped him be less so.

 

"Where'd you go for Uni?" 

 

"I just graduated from Durham, studied English."

 

"Oh, I'm actually doing my masters in English right now at University College."

 

"Really? So do you live in London normally?"

 

"Yeah, my flatmate is that total berk from earlier, Louis." 

 

"That's good news," Zayn might have heard Harry say. 

 

They finally came up to a glass door, the entrance to the pool. Harry popped the door open after some fanagling. He held his arm out and stopped Zayn from progressing further forward.

 

"There are lasers. Not like the actual burning type. But we've got to roll under them, else it'll set the alarm off and some bobbies will come for us."

 

"This is unreal." Zayn followed Harry's suit and began to roll across the floor. Abruptly, Harry stopped and Zayn sort of log rolled into him and then ricocheted back a bit, apparently they had reached the edge of the pool. He stood up and Zayn did as well. Harry began shedding his clothing. Carelessly tossing them aside.

 

Zayn finally let the rashness of his decisions catch up to him. Staring at the glowing blue, pool before him, he felt afraid all of a sudden. His throat tight, he let out a meek, strangled cry. He took a deep breath in and let it out as slowly as possible. It didn't help. The chlorine infiltrated his senses, the sickening twisting feeling in his gut returned. He heard a splash and looked up to see Harry treading water a few meters away. He looked very content to be floating around, water and all.

 

"Hope you don't mind I'm quite fond of swimming naked when I get chance." 

 

Zayn let out a nervous laugh. Harry doggie paddled back to the edge of the pool where Zayn sat. He pulled himself slightly out of the water, resting his weight on his forearms. 

 

"Hey, are you alright?" 

 

"I don't have a swim suit." Zayn couldn't come up with any other excuse.

 

"Clearly, I don't mind if you skinny dip. Just wear your pants, you prude."

 

Against his better judgment, Zayn made due unlacing his boots and numbly removed his jeans laying them on the pool deck. He shrugged off his leather jacket and laid it atop his trousers. He reached down and pulled off his shirt, shivering a bit. He folded it and stacked it on top of the rest of his folded clothes.

 

He sat on the pool ledge and swung his legs over hesitating slightly before dipping them into the cool water. He shivered again. Harry by his side, smiled up at him reassuringly. 

 

"I've got you. Take your time." 

 

Zayn scooter closer, calves now submerged. He inhaled deeply. Figuring it akin to ripping a plaster off, he took the plunge. The water was fairly shallow, only coming up to Zayn's midsection. He shuddered, it was a bit too cold for Zayn's taste. The water felt weird, cool, vaguely refreshing, mingling with Zayn's leg hair, his pants floating and drifting with every slight movement he made.

 

Harry took one of Zayn's hands into his own and moved it in a stroking motion through the water. Zayn watched Harry instead of his own arm. He desperately tried to ignore the fact that Harry was nude. He was thankful that the pool was dimly lit. Zayn's heart thudded in his chest, a combination of nerves and anxious energy. Maybe it wasn't so bad, he just wouldn't want to put his face in the water.

 

"Hey, just tell me if you wanna get out."

 

"No--no I'm alright," Zayn qualified, the edges of his mouth quirked up a tad.

 

"Is this how you treat all your students?" Zayn joked.

 

"No, just the ones I really like. I try not to scare them with my penis on the second lesson, I am a professional after all." Harry switched from Zayn's right hand to his left. Zayn laughed and tried in earnest to not look down at the water. 

 

"You think you might put your face in? Or are we not messing up the hair tonight?" Harry asked gently. 

 

"I think that can hold off til next time, maybe."

 

"Alright, don't think you're going to get away with this every time," Harry smirked, "We should still practice breathing techniques tonight."

 

"Yeah, how we going to do that?" Zayn shuddered as Harry's hand smoothed down his back, coming to rest right above his pants. He could feel himself breaking out in goose flesh where the water touched his skin and wherever Harry's hands grazed.

 

"Cold?" Harry broke the tension. Rubbing his hands, painfully slow up and down Zayn's back.

 

"No, I want to get on with these breathing lessons." 

 

"Do you, now?" Zayn nodded. 

 

"So when you're swimming, you've got to make sure to blow air out under water, through your nose or mouth." Harry demonstrated by blowing some bubbles. "Make sure to keep your mouth closed underwater, you don't want to swallow pool water." 

 

"I think I get it," said Zayn, inching closer to Harry. Harry's lips were inches from his now. Harry licked his lips.

 

"How about a dry run..." 

 

 

 

Zayn, entranced, leaned forward to join Harry's lips with his. Harry met him, their teeth clacking awkardly as they searched for a rhythm. Zayn’s hands soon made their way to Harry's torso, settling for his waist. Harry's encircled Zayn, caging him in against the pool wall. Zayn feverishly ran his hands down Harry's sides as Harry licked his way into Zayn's mouth. Zayn felt like a man on fire, his body felt warm, like he might melt right there in the pool.

 

Harry let out a mewling sound, and pulled back slightly, "See, breathing through your nose only, s'not so bad," he said between gasps. Zayn snorted and grabbed the back of Harry's neck pulling him in for second kiss. This time it was even better, a coordinated dance, an exchange. For a moment, Zayn forgot himself and the pool and everything.

 

"What's the next lesson?" asked Zayn coyly, nose nudging against Harry's. Harry kissed him lightly on the tip of his nose.

 

"Blowing," Harry grinned, "some bubbles, you know." 

 

After a bit more snogging, Zayn was starting to feel pretty pruny.

 

"Wanna come back and shower at mine? It's hardly a five minute walk," suggested Harry as if he could sense Zayn's fatigue.

 

"Time is it?" Zayn searching for a clock on th wall.

 

"Nearly 2, you can sleep over if you like, prolly don't wanna walk back..." Harry offered.

 

"Okay. That sounds alright."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like the illustration.  
> Check out my tumblr for a larger image, and some of my other art: [here](http://prettymuchjustsomestuff.tumblr.com/)


	5. Lesson 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn has a headache, eats some dinner and wrestles a bit?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D

Zayn woke up with a pounding headache and a happy reminder of the previous evening, if his morning erection was any indication. His nose felt stuffed up and his mouth was cottony. He rolled his tongue in his mouth, displeased with its dulled feeling. With a groan he forced himself to sitting. That's when he noticed he wasn't in his room at Doniya's. He had stupidly agreed to take up on Harry's offer to sleep over. That’s when he noticed he was only in a pair of pants, and ones that were certainly not his own, they had these god awful red hearts all over them.

 

He rubbed at his eyes blearily. The room was dark, save for a few rays of sunlight peeking in through the disheveled blinds. Zayn ran a hand through his hair, which felt rather crunchy. Had he not showered last night?

 

"You fell asleep before you could take a shower," Harry answered. In spite of all his clumsiness, Harry certainly knew how to sneak around and startle Zayn. It was becoming much too frequent an occurrence. But perhaps, Zayn just spent too much time in his own head, thinking.

 

Harry currently stood in the doorway, hands on his hips, head cocked to the side. Zayn drank in the sight. Harry was wearing pajamas, well of a fashion. He had on a loose gray shirt that revealed the tips of his twin sparrows and what Zayn assumed were just pants, as over he wore an apron that was dusted with flour. Zayn raised a single eyebrow at the apron. Harry moved to sit at the edge of the bed. Though Harry’s hair was slept in looking, his eyes were as bright and cheery as ever.

 

“Mornin’,” Zayn’s voice came out in an embarrassing croak. He cleared his throat.

 

“Morning to you too, sunshine. You sleep like a rock. I tried to wake you an hour or so ago, but you wouldn’t budge at all.” Harry smiled. Zayn yawned, and stretched his sore arms out.

 

"Come I made some breakfast, I suppose lunch. It’s nearly one. The shower’s on the left too. I figured you might want one. Oh and, there are your clothes if you need them." Harry got off the bed with a hop, turned and padded out of the room. Zayn stared at his bum and the sinews of his thighs as Harry marched out. It didn’t help his—situation at all. Shaking it off, Zayn looked to the end of the bed where his clothes were stacked, neatly.

 

Then he took in the rest of the room, which was definitely interesting, a clutter of clothes, records, books and all sorts of haphazard knick-knacks. On the walls were a few posters, a framed Ramones t-shirt, and a photograph of a young boy and his mother. Feeling rather intrusive, Zayn grabbed the proffered towel and snuck into the bathroom.

 

Cleaned, changed and feeling loads better, Zayn finally stumbled and into the kitchen/living area of the flat. The space was a bit cramped, but cozy and lived in looking. Zayn could tell that more than one person lived here. To his surprise, at the table sat none other than Niall the receptionist, who was currently stuffing his face with breakfast potatoes. Niall’s was in joggers and a loose tank. Zayn was sure he hadn’t seen anyone eat with quite as much enthusiasm in his life. Harry was at the stove cooking away, where a nice view of his backside still could be had.

 

"Hullo'," Niall said through a full mouth. Zayn, face aflame, sat down across from him. 

 

"So you two share the flat, then?" asked Zayn conversationally. He hadn’t expected there to be another person to see him in his glory.

 

"Mhmm," Niall intoned, shoving a banger, whole into his mouth. "Liam too. But as ye know, he's gone for a while."

 

"This is weird," Zayn blurted out before he could stop himself. Niall raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything.

 

"No, not at all," said Harry setting down a plate of piping hot chocolate chip pancakes and bacon in front of Zayn. There were some assorted berries arranged in smiley face on the top pancake. Zayn just stared. Not even his own mum did maudlin kind of things like this. Harry then sat down, a smug look on his face as he sipped at a glass of orange juice.

 

"So, you do this often, then?” Zayn asked, incredulously. He was currently transfixed by the lopsided smile of his breakfast.

 

"No, can't say I have," said Harry, drinking slowly. Harry yawned, a low deep one and flung his arms outwards as if to stretch.

 

"But I mean, I feel like most people don't, you know. I just..."

 

"Fer Christ's sakes," exclaimed Niall, "Can't a man even eat without having to listen to all this drama?" Niall stood up, his fork clattered to the floor. He glared venomously at Harry, and downed the rest of his juice. Shaking his head, he made his exit into what Zayn presumed was his room.

 

"Niall's just cranky. I promise there is an explanation for this irrational behavior," Harry supplied, "He’s a huge Derby fan and they ate it hard last night apparently."

 

Zayn nodded, still in shock.

 

“To top it off, I suppose he’s quite jealous of me and Liam. Niall’s been having a hard time in the love department, I suppose one might say. Please don’t tell ‘im I said that. He’d be really upset. Plus I’m pretty sure that Niall’s parents are not pleased about him living down in Manchester. They want him back home and for him to get married and settle down and get a decent job. So he’s under quite a bit of stress, I think.”

 

Zayn didn't respond, instead settling for stabbing one of his pancakes and eating it. This was certainly uncomfortable. And he certainly had not expected an outburst like that from Niall. And that Harry would unload all this information about Niall on to him. Strange.

 

"Is it weird? I don't think so. I like you, and you seem to like me, so I don't really see any issue." Harry shrugged and drained the rest of his juice in one large gulp. Harry seemed altogether perfectly alright with having a one sided conversation. Zayn didn’t mind, he diligently ate his smiling breakfast instead, nodding occasionally, and making thoughtful humming noises.

 

"Yeah?" something in Zayn's chest loosened a bit, "I mean don't you think it's strange, last night, this. I barely know you. In fact, what even is your last name?"

 

Harry shrugged, "Styles. And if you must know, my favorite color is blue. My one leg is slightly longer than the other, which I why I started swimming. I’m total rubbish at all land sports, if we’re being honest.”

 

Zayn wasn't satisfied with this answer. This was new territory for him and he felt entirely out of his element. His stomach churned, even after he had put away the pancakes—which had been incredible. No one had written a handbook for what to do when you start hooking up with your toddler niece's swim instructor, who is also yours as well. Also, Zayn knew this kind of relationship was not going to last, not that he needed it to or really cared. Regradless, best not to get too attached.

 

"You know what I think? I think you just need to relax," said Harry, standing up to come behind Zayn's chair. Zayn felt his hands, warm from cooking, begin gently kneading Zayn's shoulders. Zayn, against his will, leaned into Harry's touch, emitting a sort of purring noise. This was dangerous.

 

"Don't think so much about it. You're just learning to swim, with a super fit instructor, if I don't say so myself." 

 

Zayn looked up at Harry. Harry just smiled and planted a kiss on Zayn's forehead. Zayn forced himself to smile. But Zayn’s stomach was still roiling.

 

...

 

Zayn finally checked his messages as Harry drove him home. His phone had died sometime the night before, so he was grateful for Harry's car charger. Zayn hadn't been terribly keen to have Harry chauffeur him about, but he hadn't been able to get in touch with Louis, plus he didn't want to have to call Doniya and Dev to pick him up. How embarrassing that would have been. He shuddered at the thought of it.

 

He had about 20 messages from Louis, and one from Doniya asking him if he would be back for dinner. Zayn sent Doniya a quick text saying yes and began to scroll through Louis barrage of texts:

 

"Practice safe swimming, hehe"

"Remember to breathe, Zaynie" 

"Need a ride, or have you got one already? ;) ;) ;)"

 "Zaynnnn, you coming to the hotel"

"stop ignoring me, daft fool"

"I know where you live, hmu zed"

"Good morning sunshine ;)"

"Call me asap man. Im dying to know how last nite went"

 

Zayn chose to ignore all of them. He had an inkling Louis was probably coming over for dinner that evening. Louis had a tendency to invite himself places, and Doniya wasn't one to refuse a dinner guest. Dev never really did have much of a say in these things as they went. Zayn just prayed Harry wouldn't be on that list, else things would be getting too complicated for his tastes. It was bad enough that Nadira got to hang out with Harry twice a week. He didn’t want to turn this into a whole family affair.

 

"I see you don't talk very much," Harry observed.

 

"No I'm just a bit tired, is all," supplied Zayn. He was more than tired and a bit anxious for this prolonged interaction with Harry to end. Now that Zayn had given it a bit more thought on a full stomach he came to a conclusion of sorts. It had been nice and all, but Zayn decided that he wasn't really looking for a summer love or anything. He didn't like things to end and knew it would be best for this to fizzle out now, before he could get too attached. Besides Harry was a good looking bloke, he had better prospects than crabby, mid twenty year old graduate students who can't swim.

 

"What are you thinking about?" Harry made a right turn onto Doniya's street. Zayn's stomach clenched a tad.

 

"Life." 

 

"Zayn Malik the great philosopher, who knew you were a man of so many talents." Harry grinned. 

 

“Harry, if you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing out in Manchester?”

 

“Loaded question. I’m not quite sure actually. Niall, Liam and I we all were mates in uni, and we just ended up renting a flat together. I think Liam is going to be a teacher, I haven’t a clue what Niall is doing like I mentioned earlier. I don’t know if teaching is what I want to do…with an English degree though I just don’t know. I wanted to be a physio, or something with sports at one point, but that didn’t quite work out.”

 

“Hmm. Makes sense. Sometimes I feel like I’m just in grad school to stave off the real world, for just a bit more.”

 

“I think you’d be a good teacher, though half the class would be in love with you,” Harry replied easily.

 

Zayn snorted, “You’re telling me.”

 

To his chagrin, when he and Harry pulled up to the house, the whole gang was out in the front garden, sipping tea and most likely waiting for Zayn to arrive. That bastard Louis, Zayn shook his head and grimaced when Louis waved at him as Harry came to a stop in front of the house.

 

"All set then?" asked Harry, unbuckling and getting out of the car. Zayn gave a weak nod and did the same.

  
Of course Doniya had insisted Harry stay for dinner. It was a pretty painful event all around for Zayn. Louis and Doniya and Harry and Dev seemed intent on teasing him all evening and even Nadira and all her adorableness didn't provide quite enough distraction. Zayn was more than relieved once dinner was finished.

 

But somehow, Harry had managed to charm his way into after dinner coffees and desserts. Zayn groaned, Doniya was eating right out of Harry's palm. And of course, Dev was more than thrilled to have another proficient swimmer in the household. Zayn thought he might just sink into a hole in the floor and never come out.

 

Harry the darling chef he claimed to be, just had to know the recipe for that evening's meal. Zayn excused himself. He was the serious sixth wheel, which didn’t really make sense as there was an even number of people but regardless he felt somewhat excluded. Nadira and Louis had occupied themselves by playing some sort of game. Dev, Doniya and Harry were in the kitchen taking their coffees, deep in a conversation about Nadira, swimming and whatever, Zayn did not care.

 

He sat out on the porch steps and lit a cigarette, welcoming the burn into his lungs. It cradled him, the warm, sweet smell of nicotine. It was comforting and familiar. Zayn thrived on that, the things that reminded him of home and domesticity. His family. Louis might say he's boring for that, but Zayn preferred domestic or family oriented. 

 

He heard creaking and footsteps on the porch behind him. "I know it's you, Harry," Zayn said.

 

"Thought you might be out here. You do know smoking is really quite bad for you."

 

"Why I didn't know that. Says the one who carries cigarettes around as well," Zayn retorted.

 

"They're solely for cosmetic purposes. Make me look cooler, more hipster. And for pulling hot uncles, of course, but you already knew that." 

 

Zayn just snorted, he stubbed out his cigarette on the pavement. The crickets were out, their buzzing charged the night air. Zayn rubbed his arms, it was a bit chilly out. Harry wrapped some sort of cardigan or shawl around him. Zayn was too cold to refuse it. It smelled nice, like Harry, Zayn pretended to not notice. They sort of sat in silence, for a bit. Zayn relishing in the stillness of the summer evening.

 

"It's been a long day," Zayn said heaving himself to standing, "Thanks for everything today and last night as well." He clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed lightly. Zayn shrugged off Harry’s cardigan and handed it back. He then stuffed both hands in his pockets. They were starting to get cold, obviously.

 

"Any time, really, though." Harry just nodded. 

 

"You leaving now?" Zayn asked, kicking the ground, scattering a spray of tiny pebbles everywhere. Harry yawned loudly.

 

"Yes, as much as I love hanging out, I should probably get going. Thanks for having me over for dinner, Zayn. It's nice to have someone else cook every once in a while." Harry grinned at him. Harry still stood there, as if he was waiting for something. 

 

"Our pleasure."

 

 Harry inched closer to him, ever so slightly. He stood with his chest a few inches from Zayn's. Zayn inhaled, he smelled strongly of chocolate with a hint of Harry’s own musk. 

 

"Did you bake brownies just now or something?" 

 

"Mood killer," Harry breathed out. He brushed some flatted hair out of Zayn's eyes and took his chin in between his thumb and forefinger and tipped it upwards. Zayn removed his hands from his pockets, tentatively placing them on Harry's waist.

 

"Another dry run, huh," Zayn mumbled before Harry's lips met his. Zayn wasn't sure who sighed into the kiss, it was probably both of them. 

 

...

 

Zayn awoke to another furious headache and an extra body in his bed. He coughed a bit and made an effort to get up. He noticed someone snoring away. He glanced over and saw Louis mouth open drooling all over his pillow. He elbowed him, Louis just snuffled a bit and continued right on sleeping. Finally he slammed one of the pillows down on Louis' face a couple times.

 

"Alright, alright I'm up." Louis groped the air blindly. "Where's the fire?"

 

"What are you doing in my bed? There's a spare room, man," Zayn laughed. Louis rubbed his eyes groggily and shrugged.

 

"You looked like you could use some cuddling, is all. Plus I've bed dying to hear about what happened between you and Mr. Styles!!! That is his last name right?? But you fell dead asleep before we could pillow talk Zed! But you did look awful blissful, all stars in your eyes and shit."

 

"I promise you nothing that exciting happened. We just went for a swim, yeah." 

 

"So that's what the kids are calling it these days then?" Louis jabbed wryly. 

 

"We may have snogged a bit, but that was all. Then I slept in his bed and he took the sofa, no monkey business."

 

"Zayn, are you for real? You've got this massive fittie wrapped round your finger and you made him sleep on the sofa? The sofa??" Louis exclaimed. "Bollocks, you're possibly the world's biggest self cockblocker."

 

"No need to be dramatic Louis. I mean, let's be honest, it's a bit strange, innit?" Zayn scratched at his stubble. Louis blinked at him and hit him upside the head. Zayn gasped and smacked him back.

 

"I don't see how it is. It's a young love, a young summer love. Beautiful. If I weren't taken, I would most definitely be taking advantage of my single twenties years. Harry's super fit, and seems like a decent person, he's not a serial killer, least I don't get that vibe from him." 

 

"I don't know. Just seems silly, cause I'll be going back to London soon. C’mon Lou, I know I used to do a lot of random one offs in uni, but I’m an adult now," Zayn sighed.

 

"Zayn Malik, I am sick and tired of listening to your pissing and moaning. When did you get so melodramatic, mate? Chill out. What have you got to lose? Plus I definitely wouldn’t consider this a oneoff, you do see him for other reasons as well," Louis advised, he then grabbed Zayn's mobile. "I am going to do you a favor and text Harry, to set up your next lesson." 

 

Zayn would have put up a fight, but Louis was a dogged person to wrestle with. Zayn had learned the hard way in uni. Louis could be quite agile if he needed to be. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GAH this is coming out a tad different than I had intended. Well that's writing!  
> Stay tuned for next week ladies and gents. :)


	6. Lesson 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn is one with the water, hates RomComs and gets some sense talked into him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Le gasp. Will Zayn finally learn to swim?

 

Zayn took a spluttering gasp. He drew in stuttered breathes of oxygen while still attempting to expel the water lodged in his throat. His breathing was ragged, coming out in pants. He coughed up half a lung, nearly. Swimming was definitely worse than smoking he decided. Even when he had taken his first drag at fifteen years old, he definitely never coughed this much. But maybe that was because he was with his older friends and he didn’t want to come off looking like a little kid. His sole consolation was that Harry's soothing hand rubbed reassuring circles on his back after each of his pitiful hacks. 

 

"You alright, there?" Harry intoned, hand lending some warmth to the heaving small of Zayn’s back.

 

Zayn nodded grimly. He was determined to blow some decent bubbles today. He steeled himself and mentally prepped.

 

Their lessons had been progressing fairly slowly. Zayn somehow had needed a few lessons to get over that initial fear of the water. In retrospect, it was quite silly. Nevertheless, it seemed that Zayn still had to be coaxed into the water each lesson. Harry noted that each lesson he got in faster however. But to put his face in the water, that was a whole other bout of pleading and puppy dog eyes on Harry's part. To his surprise and surely Harry’s, Zayn had successfully mastered floating on his back in the water. It was the putting the face in the water and trying to float that was getting to Zayn.

 

Zayn was more than thankful at how patient Harry was being with him. At this point he definitely would have screamed and gave up on himself, and completely ditched any idea of a romantic interest in said cowardly non-swimmer. But Harry seemed only endeared by Zayn's cat like aversion to water and frequent coughing fits.

 

"How about this time, I'll go under water too, and we can blow out air at each other? Sound doable?"

 

"Yes."

 

Zayn took a deep breath and submerged his body and then his head. He shut his eyes for a brief moment, but then remembered he was wearing goggles. He saw Harry right next to him, his hair floating around him rather like an ethereal halo of sorts. The pool had an odd lighting to it. Bluish, white, a glow almost. Harry's skin nearly looked a pale blue, delicate and perfect. His tattoos were lighter, ghosts nearly. Zayn wanted to reach out and touch.

 

Zayn almost expelled all the air in his lungs when he took a look at Harry’s face. His cheeks were puffed up, full of air. He began blowing bubbles out. Zayn nearly laughed, but instead focused on blowing a steady stream of bubbles through his nose and mouth. Harry gave him a thumbs up with both hands. The two both rose to the surface.

 

Harry's face split into a huge, blinding smile. "That was so good!" He pulled Zayn into a wet embrace. Zayn heaved slightly and allowed himself to be hugged. He awkwardly patted Harry’s muscled back with one hand.

 

"Just think my little Zayn, finally blowing bubbles," Harry said his voice drenched in enthusiasm. Harry seemed to have forgotten they were in a public pool, as he still held Zayn's head clasped flush against his chest. Zayn was getting nice and personal with Harry's twin swallows, which he honestly did not mind in the slightest. They looked quite nice up close and with water sluicing down Harry's clavicle. 

 

"Hah, I've probably not caught up to Nadira at all yet, have I?" Zayn mumbled against Harry's chest.

 

Harry pulled Zayn's head off him and held his face in between two hands. He sort of wiggled it side to side between his hands, pulling gently at Zayn’s cheeks. "Now Zayn! Don't you worry about anyone else's progress but your own. Silly." He then planted a giant kiss on Zayn's cheek, causing Zayn to blush, and wriggle his way out of Harry’s grasp.

 

"You're mad," said Zayn. Harry just laughed but said nothing, in favor of doing a somersault underwater.

 

"So, are we ready to give it another go?" Harry beamed as he surfaced. Zayn nodded resolutely and they both prepared to go under again.

 

...

 

Zayn and Harry quickly fell into a bit of a regular routine over the next couple of weeks, in which Zayn panicked about a multitude of things and Harry reassured him and told him how wonderful he was. His moments of greatest insecurity most often surfaced during the swim lessons, of course during which he felt overexposed, both physically and psychologically. 

 

Zayn wasn't sure when he had become so needy, but Harry was a giver. Zayn felt so assured and appreciated. It was almost overwhelming the amount of attention Harry paid him. It seemed that Harry genuinely cared about Zayn, in the way he was patient and willing to listen to Zayn babble about nothing, or not mind if Zayn didn't feel like talking at all.

 

Frankly, Zayn didn't understand what Harry was doing hanging about with Zayn all the time. Zayn didn't see how Harry benefitted much from their arrangement. Outside of both Zayn and Nadira's lessons, they had began to spend more time together. They ran errands together, walked Harry's uncle's rather overweight French bulldog whom he was dog sitting for a month, and watched a crap ton of terrible modern movie adaptations of Shakespeare plays, all of which Harry loved. Zayn swore if he had to watch "She's the Man" another time, someone was going to be in trouble.

  
It was comfortable. Zayn felt at ease, like he could be himself. Harry didn’t mind that sometimes they would sit for hours without talking. Just sitting on the couch, on a bench, anywhere really. Harry took the hint very quickly after the first few times they hung out and left Zayn in a contented kind of quiet whenever he needed it. And Zayn did need it. He was a thinker. Sometimes he thought too much. About school, his thesis, his sisters, his mom, his dad, the state of the universe, the ebb and flow of water, and the flux of time. It could all be so overwhelming. So he needed his time to recharge. And Harry was extremely sensitive to this, so much in fact that Zayn wondered how his life would have been different had they grown up knowing each other. Zayn was certain his childhood would have been certainly much happier with an understanding friend like Harry. He hadn’t met Louis until uni, and that started off rather rocky in itself.

 

However, when Zayn was feeling particularly apprehensive he began to doubt Harry’s presence in his life. Harry was young, albeit only two years younger than Zayn, but he was so full of youthful sort of promise, at least Zayn thought so. Thus the fact that he seemed to be spending most of his time with Zayn was puzzling and a little disconcerting. He clearly had loads of more interesting friends, that radio dj Nick Grimshaw to name one. Zayn also found out he was pretty chummy with Alexa Chung and others in that industry. So Zayn had more than a few questions really. What was Harry doing with his life? He could easily see Harry becoming a teacher, or anything really with all his charm and good looks. Or maybe he was meant to be a super model, which Zayn laughed at, because in spite of his superior form, Harry was quite clumsy. Instead he was moping around in Manchester teaching toddlers how to swim.

 

Somehow, before Zayn even realized it Harry and he had grown inexplicably close, and yet simultaneously further from where Zayn thought they might have been with a mere few weeks left in the summer. Since the weekend of their second lesson, the one they had after running into one another at Grimmy's birthday party, nothing had happened. Harry although as friendly as ever, seemed more and more to avoid making any direct physical contact with Zayn. Zayn knew he shouldn’t be too surprised. He was rather boring underneath when it boiled down to it.

 

Zayn was presently over for dinner at Harry, Niall and Liam’s flat. Which he now tended to do on a fairly regular basis, since Dev was home all the time. However, today Niall and Liam were nowhere to be found. Harry had brushed it off saying Niall and Liam were on a double date, or something like that. Zayn rolled his eyes and told Harry he didn’t need an excuse to hang out alone with Zayn. This caused Harry to break out in a splitting grin. Harry then ushered Zayn into his living room and popped in a film.

 

About half way in, Harry got up to start cooking. Harry was sautéing something, it was starting to smell wonderful. Zayn paused the terrible film they were watching in favor of examining the lint that had collected on his shirt. He felt rather gluttonous. He always just sat around and waited while Harry cooked. Harry never seemed to want to let Zayn lift a finger.

 

"Zayn, come over here and try this!" Harry called. Zayn lugged himself off of the weather beaten couch and gravitated towards the outstretched spoon in Harry's hand. He leaned forward and took a taste of whatever it was.

 

"It's good! Really good, yeah." Zayn let the flavors coalesce on his tongue. It was some kind of curry, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. 

 

"What'd you put in it? Is that cardamom? No wait, I know, some cumin and cardamom. " 

 

"Trade secret. Can't being giving those away," Harry replied, turning back to the stove. Zayn didn't miss the tiny smile that graced Harry's face as he turned away.

 

Zayn occupied himself by setting the table. He was surprised that he knew the locations of Harry's various cutlery and china. It made him a little forlorn, to be honest. He was so familiar and starting to become comfortable in Manchester. He had been dreading the nearing end of summer, and consequently he never had asked Harry what he was doing come September. In fact Zayn hadn't even decided when he was going to drive back to London for the fall term. It had been stewing for a while now. And since he didn't even know how to qualify his and Harry's relationship, he had no clue how to even begin addressing this. Would it be weird if he asked, since their relationship had took a turn for the platonic?

 

Harry placed the pot of curry on a hot plate at the dining table. He also brought over a bowl of rice and some serving utensils. 

 

“Ahh, a nice dinner with my dear Zayn. How very domestic. I feel like a regular house-man,” Harry sighed happily, “So what you say? Is the film any better second itme around?

 

“Definitely not,” Zayn all but snorted. He twirled his fork in his hand, slightly embarrassed. Harry still had a way of unnerving him at times.

 

"Whatcha thinking about? You seem awful serious today.” Harry served Zayn a generous portion, making sure to give him extra chicken.

 

"Uhm. Nothing really." Zayn scratched behind his ear. Zayn didn't think he was the best liar.

 

"Sure, sure. I'll let you in on something Zayn, you're not a very good liar,” Harry said lightly.

 

"I said it was nothing," Zayn half snapped. Harry generally knew when not to push, but Zayn’s mood turned sour for no apparent reason. Maybe it was because the summer was nearing the end and Zayn still hadn’t a clue what he and Harry were. Maybe it was because Zayn was just tired of second guessing every single thing Harry did and said.

 

"Nothing seems really stressful, I guess." Harry said in a clipped tone.

 

Zayn nodded slightly surprised at Harry's shortness, but focused more on eating his food, which was absolutely delicious. Among the many things Zayn would miss from this summer was Harry's cooking. Louis and he both couldn't cook for shit. It was really quite depressing actually. They had a lot of takeaway during the school year.

 

"So the lesson program ends next week," Zayn broke the silence. Harry stabbed a carrot rather violently. 

 

"Yeah. Nadira's gotten so good. She'll be a fantastic swimmer one day, no doubt." Harry said. He sounded sort of hollow. He refused to look Zayn in the eye now, eyes staring resolutely at an interesting mar in the wooden table top.

 

"Yep." Zayn swallowed another bite. 

 

After dinner, they cleaned up in silence. Zayn could hardly bare it, it was so tense and uncomfortable. "You know, I don't think I'll finish the movie. I'm feeling kind of put out."

 

"That's probably best. You don't even like these movies," Harry said curtly.  Zayn just nodded, picked up his keys and left, without a word more.

 

...

 

After his tiff with Harry, Zayn slept for an eternity, it seemed. It was at max probably a week, seven days of waking and falling and going through the motions. He kindly thanked Dev for taking over all swim lesson duty. Dev definitely enjoyed it way more anyway. Zayn was completely exhausted. Everything felt weary, a dull pulsing kind of ache. And he needed to be refreshed before school started. He tried earnestly to work more on his thesis but to no avail. He spent most of his time napping or reading, or some combination of both. Even Nadira noticed the sudden change in her uncle. 

 

The penultimate week in August rolled around, and Zayn began packing what little belongings he had brought to Doniya's. Of course, while cleaning up, he found the towel Harry had lent him but he neglected to return. Deciding, he’d probably not see Harry again, he packed it away. Zayn figured he could always use an extra towel, a super fluffy one at that. He was going back to Bradford for a few days before meeting Louis and moving back into their flat which they subletted all summer. Doniya had suggested he go home a week early, that maybe some of their mom's love, care, and cooking would help him rejuvenate his spirit.

 

He ignored any and all texts from Harry. And even when Nadira gave him a letter from Harry that he slipped her on the last day of her lessons, he didn't open it. Instead, he tucked it into away into one of his bags. Reading it would only make the separation worse. Right? Zayn had made it as easy as possible he thought. Moving away before he actually moved away. It made perfect sense. So why did he feel so shitty about it?

 

He was of course very sad to leave Nadira. They had grown extremely close that summer, largely in their shared fondness for a certain swim instructor. But she promised to Skype with him once a week. Their parting was tearful on both sides. Nadira was not much of a crier, but having spent so much time with Zayn that summer, she was displeased at the least.

 

Bradford was a welcome change of scenery and so was his childhood room, even if it wasn’t really his own anymore. His father was the same as always, Zayn could alsways count on his constancy. His mother was worried. She claimed he looked too skinny and pale and didn't he spend anytime outside ever? Zayn was grateful to be at home for a bit. He liked to be pampered, just a little bit. His mom liked to baby him and he didn’t mind at all.

 

Walihya and Safaa were nice to see as well. It was weird, now in their teens, they seemed grown up. Each time Zayn visited they seemed taller and more mature. Walihya even had a boyfriend to Zayn's surprise.

 

"Yeah, his name is Mark, he's alright. I guess," she shrugged, texting while lying prone on her bed, one day. They had taken to spending time in Walihya's bedroom, at least for the few days Zayn had been home. Zayn's childhood room had been converted to an office long ago, so he was couch surfing for the week. 

 

"So, this Mark…Is he in your year? How’d you two meet?" Zayn asked. He was lying on the floor, staring at the glow in the dark constellations on his sister's ceiling. Walihya sat up on her bed, legs crossed, leaning against the wall.

 

"No, he's one year higher. But who cares, it's just a summer fling, anyways. He's just in Bradford for the summer staying with his auntie. I'm breaking up with him soon."

 

Zayn just blinked, and craned his neck to get a better look at her. When had his sister gotten old enough to even date in first place. She had started wearing makeup, light but still visible. She was still skinny, but starting to soften out around the edges. He always knew somewhere in his heart that Walihya would be a heart breaker, but this seemed too soon.

 

"You can meet him if you want. We're going out later on a double date. You should definitely offer to drive us. I hate it when dad drives us, he's always acting all weird around Mark. What about you Zayn? Any boyfriends?" Walihya questioned, still typing away on her phone.

 

"Umm, not sure."

 

"That guy in Uncle Louis' Facebook photos is pretty cute. Harry or summat is his name. I like him. He looks cool." 

 

"Yeah. He's alright I guess. But kinda like your Mark, just a summer fling or whatever."

 

"What? He dump you?"

 

"No, I did." 

 

"Why are you so sad looking then?" Walihya didn't even bother to look up from her phone, "If you cut him loose, than you shouldn't be so hung up about it right? I mean unless you actually liked him." 

 

"I guess I'm not sure what happened really. I never actually talked to him about it."

 

"Look Zayn," Walihya began, finally looking up from her phone, "I'm going to be honest with you. And I've wanted to say this for a while. I love you, but you're so stupid some times! If you're having such angst over this guy you should just call him. Moping about it now isn't going to do anything. This feels like a rerun of what happened with Perrie. And let's be honest, everyone was dying for that to end. Just talk to the guy, use your words. Seriously, for a person getting their graduate degree in English, you'd think you'd use them better."

 

Zayn stared at her, his mouth ajar in something like shock. He coughed and sat up. 

 

"Don't act all shocked," Walihya patted him on the arm, "I'm just trying to help."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah. Don't hate Zayn too much. Who even knows what's happening anymore? Certainly not him.
> 
> Also I'm thinking I'll add an epilogue in addition the seven chapters. :)


	7. Lesson 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zayn reads, floats about, and speaks his mind (finally).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not terribly pleased with how this left off, so Ill be writing another chapter/epilogue. :D
> 
> Also I'm sorry Zayn is such an idiot in this. Wait, no I'm not.

 

"I just cannot believe that you never banged Harry!" Louis voice rang through their flat, which was currently in a transition state of sorts, clothes strewn about spilling out of open suitcases. Zayn was sprawled out on the couch, his laptop on his stomach, headphones on. A mess of papers were scattered about him. His laptop was started to burn his stomach if he were honest, it had been too long since he had changed positions.

 

"What?" Zayn asked, taking one of the ears off. Louis was moving his mouth rapidly, but Zayn wasn’t much for lip reading.

 

"You definitely heard me, I know you did.  You never fucked Harry? What the fuck is wrong with you? Also you’re a huge shit apparently too," Louis near screamed, waving his hands around rather frantically.

 

Zayn grumbled something unintelligible and slipped his headphones back on. Louis’ rants could wait. He had some emailing to do before tomorrow, the first day of school. He was teaching a lower level literature course as a requisite for part of his graduate studies, which he had nearly forgotten about until he received a reminder email from his ever so helpful professor the day he moved back to London. He wasn't particularly looking forward to it either. He had a mountain of work to plough through for the course. Right now his first goal was to craft something that some semblance to a syllabus.

 

Louis knocked Zayn's headphones off his head, and waved a crumpled envelope in front of Zayn's face. Zayn looked up in something like surprise. Louis' face was pinched, and his eyebrows knitted together in concern. His arms were crossed, and his foot was tapping on the hardwood floor impatiently. Zayn hadn’t seen him this upset in a long while.

 

"You've been whining a ton about how miserable you are, but I found this in your bag. I think you ought to read it," Louis slapped the letter against Zayn's chest. Zayn had not been whining that much, thank you very much.

 

"Do you have any boundaries at all? When you see an envelope addressed to someone else, you just open it?" Zayn snarled. It seemed like everyone recently was out to get him, Walihya, and now Louis.

 

"Zayn, take your head out of your ass and breathe in the fresh air for a second. I'll be staying at Eleanor's tonight. Figure your shit out, I can't even," Louis stormed out of the flat, slamming the door as he stomped down the hall. Zayn felt like he must have missed something, because he hadn't seen Louis that done with Zayn since, well since the dry humping incident during uni. And then it was mostly because Louis hadn't want to be implicated as the other woman in the situation. Louis certainly had an interesting moral compass.

 

Zayn groaned, placing his laptop on the coffee table. His overheated stomach thanked him for it. He smoothed a hand through his hair and removed the letter from the rumpled envelope. To his surprise the letter was completely hand written. All long sloping, letters and signed in a flourish at the bottom. There were a few scratched out lines here and there, but it was definitely Harry.

 

_"Hullo Zayn,_

_I know you probably don't think very much of me. And that's alright. And I know you're definitely not thinking about me anymore, but I hope you do read this._

_You probably think I’m a completely creeper for having Nadira deliver this letter to you. Even I will admit it was cowardly of me. But you were unreachable, and I don't know what I did wrong._

_I think you are such a wonderful, beautiful person, I just wish you could see it as well. I'm sure was obvious how much I liked you. Did I come on too strong? I have the tendency to scare people away. At least that what Liam says. Do you think me peculiar?_ _That was a rhetorical question. Anyways, I'm upset we never got to say a proper goodbye. Although I'm sure I'll see you again. Nadira says you've left for Bradford. Then you're moving back to London._

_But I digress. And now I've lost my place. How embarrassing. Apparently, I can’t even write a letter, let alone have a successful adult relationship._

_I'm one for banal sort of things, if you haven't noticed. So I’ll leave you with this:_

 

_A certain Ms. Plath once said, "I took a deep breath and listened to the old brag of my heart. I am, I am, I am."_

_Love,_

_Harry"_

 

"What the..." Zayn just blinked at the wrinkled piece of paper. What did it even mean? Like Harry, his letter also made absolutely no sense. What did the Sylvia Plath quote have to do with their relationship? Zayn felt angry all of a sudden. Harry had no right to throw this on him now. Did he? At the same time Zayn felt like curling up in his bed and kicking himself for missing out.

 

Zayn folded the letter precisely and slid it back in its envelope. He pondered for a minute the pros and cons of texting Harry. The only issue is was that he had no clue what he would possibly say. "Sorry, I like you too?" or "How about we start anew?". All of that would be great, Zayn thought, if he even knew where in all of Britain Harry was. Or if he hadn’t accidentally, on purpose, deleted all of Harry’s contact information and unfriended him on social media sites.

 

 

 

...

 

 

Zayn wasn't sure what finally drew him in, but one day he decided to check out the pool at the university near his and Louis' flat. He had bought his own pair of trunks finally and thought he might debut them. It didn't hurt that Louis promised to come hang out too. Louis was always quick to his emotions, be it anger or forgiveness. This sort of volatility came with the territory, and Zayn was more than happy that their brief strife had blew over. They'd probably just end up in the hot tub anyways, let things stew over and all. And Zayn did like hot tubs, baths in general really. Something he would not have too often as his flat was too cheap to include a full bath tub.

 

Louis per usual was nowhere to be found. Zayn checked the time, he was a few minutes late even. A whole half hour to be truthful. He stripped down to his swim shorts and sat at the edge of the pool in the shallows. He debated the pros and cons of getting in the pool. Pro, he could feel something other than the monotony he was about to enter. Con, he'd have to get in the pool. Pro, Harry would be proud. Con, who gives a flying fuck about Harry anymore, not Zayn. Con, the lifeguard looks like a major asshole, don't want to drown in front of him.

 

He ended up just wading around in the shallow end of the pool, which was particularly shallow. The water went up to only about a meter high. This pool was certainly colder than the one in Manchester. Perhaps it was because he was alone though. Feeling particularly and uncharacteristically brave, Zayn leaned onto his back, letting the water support his body. He twitched around rather violently at first and then, to his own elation, his body floated.

 

The cool water's embrace was calming, serene even. As he stared at the tiled ceiling, he allowed himself to breath, long and slow. Then he let his eyes shut, his worries nearly melting as his vision faded to a ruddy darkness. The water pooled near the column of his throat, kissing at the edges of his jaw and ebbing over his ears. He might have fallen asleep if not for the gentle hum of pool's ventilation, the rhythmic slap of the lap swimmers strokes, and the quiet murmur of the water in his ears. His mind was quieted. It was blissful.

 

Splash!

 

A giant wave of water crashed over Zayn disrupting his moment of solitude. His eyes flickered open, to be stung by the chlorinated water. He drew a breath in but to no avail, as his gulp was half water, half air. His legs found purchase on the pool floor much slower than he should have liked. 

 

Stabilizing himself, and catching his breath, he looked to find his attacker.  A mess of brown hair flopped out of the water.

 

"Harry?" Zayn blinked more water out of his eyes. Was he seeing things? Something in his gut tightened in anticipation, but it was just Louis. Zayn shook his head. How could it have been Harry? 

 

"Sorry about that," Louis said, not sounding very sorry at all. He ran a hand through his wet hair, slicking it back.

 

Even though they had made up, Louis had been kind of more of a dick than usual since the whole letter incident. He spent more and more time at Eleanor's and often didn't pick up after himself, which he knew absolutely peeved Zayn. Zayn didn't really understand what he had done wrong. It was not as if Louis cared for Harry, so Zayn figured Louis was just more invested in his love and sex life than he was.

 

"I'm sorry, what did you call me?" Louis' face split into a wicked grin. Zayn internally groaned.

 

"Hot tub?" Zayn asked in a poor attempt to avoid the subject.

 

"Sure," said Louis sardonic look painted on his face. 

 

Zayn hissed as they entered the bubbling, frothing tub. Louis slipped in on the opposite side and sat with arms resting on the expanse of the hot tub's lip. He leaned his head back and let the warm water and the jets sooth his aching body. 

 

"I'm peeing," Louis announced. Zayn wrinkled his nose, but pretended he hadn't just heard that. He was much too comfortable to move.

 

"You're disgusting. I don't know how Eleanor puts up with that shit."

 

"You love me."

 

"Keep telling yourself that." Zayn ribbed Louis. Louis just grinned and sunk a little deeper into the hot tub.

 

"So, are you ever gonna give our young Harold a call?" 

 

"Nope. And I'm getting pruny," Zayn said, "I think I'm going to go home." 

 

He might have heard Louis groan then laugh at him. But he was already in the locker room.

  

...

 

Classes started without a hitch to Zayn's utter surprise. His students were actually quite likable for the most the part. Many of them even seemed excited at the selection of works to be read during the semester, which greatly pleased Zayn. He was also glad to be back into a more regular routine, of work, classes and thesis research. It left him with little time to think of else.

 

He and Louis went to the pool nearly every other day now. It was nice. Zayn was content. He splashed around for a few hours everyday. Blew off some steam from teaching. If someone had told him a four months prior this is what he would be doing, he would have probably laughed himself into the grave. Zayn thought it was funny, how quickly things had changed.

 

The worst part of it all was that Zayn still stupidly thought about Harry, much more often than he had ever harped on someone. Even when he and Perrie had spent a summer away from each other he never gave her this much thought. And they had actually been together for a year at that point. For some reason Zayn couldn’t bring himself to dispose of the letter. He now kept the damned thing in his room, hidden beneath a stack of books on his bedside table. As if rereading and dissecting every single line would help him make sense of everything.

 

For one, he berated himself for how unbelievably blind he had been to Harry's alleged affections. Zayn had always prided himself on being an observant individual. His strongest assets lay in his abilities to read situations, people and literature. So he felt incredibly regressed upon reflection of all his emotionally stunted interactions with the swimming instructor. No, that was the issue, thought Zayn. The fact that Zayn had kept trying to file Harry neatly away into a box like all the other parts of his life. Harry was a person though, too. But Zayn had reduced him to a caricature because of his own fear and his own insecurities. 

 

So, one day before meeting Louis at the pool Zayn sat and wrote Harry a letter. He liked this better. The ability to choose his words carefully, testing out each turn of a phrase before setting it into stone. He thrived on the page; this is where he felt most alive. The letter took him longer than it should have to craft. But it was worth it. Here he synthesized and made sense of the events that had occurred, his own actions and reactions, and maybe even made an apology or two.

 

His sojourn in the pool had been rather brief as the water had been rather more chilly than usual. Zayn with relish made his way to the locker room. He needed dreadfully to warm up. Louis had resolved to soak in the hot tub a while longer. Zayn didn't blame him. He ambled towards the locker room, towel and gym bag in hand. He had recently run low on towels and had resorted to using the one that he never managed to return to Harry. It was a good towel after all.

 

The locker room was empty, save for one man with an incredibly sculpted behind, who was currently bent over, tiniest of towels wrapped around his waist. Zayn let himself ogle. It had been a while. That's when the man turned around. Of course it was Harry, who looked better than ever, if that was even possible. He had somehow managed to get a rather fetching tan, despite to Zayn’s knowledge Harry had never left the British Isles that summer. But naturally, since their communication had abruptly come to a halt, how was Zayn to know anything about Harry’s personal life any longer?

 

"Zayn!" Harry exclaimed dropping the pair of goggles he held in his hand. To Zayn’s disappointment he did not drop his towel. Harry looked as surprised as Zayn felt. Zayn's mouth opened then closed, then he just stood there.

 

"I read your letter," Zayn finally blurted out. He cursed himself; his own letter of course sat in his printer at home.

 

Harry wore a weary and wary expression; he seemed disinterested in Zayn’s admission. Zayn knew in this instant that if he ever wanted to repair anything with Harry he would have to do the talking now, so he did. He was glad he had written several drafts of the letter, because at least he had something somewhat logical and coherent to say.

 

"Look, Harry. I wanted to apologize, for a lot of things. Well, let’s see. Umm, namely, my lack of communication skills. I, well, I’ll have you know, I actually didn't read the letter until very recently. And yeah, the main point is that I'm sorry that I never told you how I felt about you, or anything about myself really," Zayn took a deep breath, "I've been told I'm not much of a sharer. I guess I find it difficult to give pieces of myself away. That's why I liked you, erm why I like you. Because you care. And I never wanted you to think that I didn't care. I just thought that you'd be better off with someone more like you." 

 

Harry looked contemplative, but he didn't say anything or make a move to leave the locker room. Zayn shifted on the balls of his feet. The air was thick with something he just couldn’t put a name to it.

 

"Is that my towel?" Harry finally broke the silence.

 

"Yeah, sorry about that as well. I'm normally not that terrible about borrowing other people's things." 

 

"It's fine, I don't mind if you keep it." 

 

"What are you even doing here? In London, I mean?" Zayn asked, a little desperately. Harry was just standing with his hands at his side. 

 

"I live here," Harry explained, crossing his arms, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

 

"Sorry?" 

 

"Well, not here obviously. I mean in London. You never bothered to ask, I just assumed you knew..." Harry started, "Don't you remember I said I was thinking about doing my masters or doctorate?"

 

"Wow," said Zayn taking a seat on one of the benches. He felt like such a total ass.

 

"Look Zayn, I got the message pretty clearly. You weren't looking for something long term. I get it. You don't have to apologize for it now. It's all in the past,” Harry’s face was a little screwed up, like he was trying to make sense of everything Zayn had just told him.

 

"No, I…What if I don’t want it to be?" Zayn stuttered, taking a step towards Harry, who was now nearly backed against the lockers. He didn’t look uncomfortable though at any rate.

 

"What I mean is, I thought, you didn't like me. Like, you could definitely have your pick but you picked me."

 

Harry raised a single brow to that. 

 

"I guess what I'm trying to say, is that, I like you still. And fuck it, the only reason I learned to swim this summer was because of you, because I wanted to spend time with you. So, if you're still available and not interested in anyone else right now, I would like to take you out to dinner and we'll see what happens from there."

 

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment, during which Zayn was in total agony waiting for his reply or any clue in, really. Zayn suddenly felt very exhausted, from the swim and his long winded rambling confession. Harry took his time though, scratched his chin, which had sprouted a few sparse sad looking hairs, and sighed very loudly.

 

"I don't mean to sound rude, but I think that was the most you've ever said to me at once before." 

 

“Seriously? Is that all you have to say?”

 

“No, I’m just really glad that you took Plath’s advice,” Harry smiled, “Of course I’ll go to dinner with you. I’ve been waiting for you to ask for months now, I just can’t believe it myself. I had given up months ago…”

 

Zayn released a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Something bubbled up within him, light and airy at first. And then it came out of him with little hesitation, it was a laugh. He laughed, for the first time it seemed in a very long time. It felt good too. Like a weight had been lifted from him. Harry probably thought he was insane at this point anyways.

 

"Wait, what's so funny?" Harry kept asking, but Zayn couldn't answer. He was nearly doubled over, clutching his ribs, as they began to cramp. He was even tearing up.

 

"Zayn, umm could you stop laughing? Your laugh is precious, but it’s honestly starting to creep me out. Seriously though, you're starting to make me worry over here!"

 

That's when Zayn noticed that Harry had invaded his personal space. His laughing subsided a bit and he flicked his eyes open. Harry's very green ones greeted him. Feeling more sure of himself than he had since he was a grimy and horny adolescent, Zayn took Harry's face in between his hands.

 

"You know what, Styles?"

 

"What?" Harry asked, his hand coming to rest on Zayn’s hips. Zayn felt a thrum of electricity between them.

 

“Can I ask you a question?”

 

“You just did.”

 

“Do you think I’m quite daft?”

 

“No, I just think you can’t see what’s right in front of you.”

 

"How observant…But I think I can see pretty well from here. I'm going to kiss you right now, if that's alright."

 

"I think I might be amenable to that."

 

"Have you been brushing up on your vocabulary or something?"

 

"Hey I happen to have a degree in English too. Anyways, more kissing, less talking."

 

"Alright."

 

And Zayn did just that. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah, thanks for putting up with this mofo for so long. 
> 
> I got a bunch of oneshots saved up that I'll be getting out soon. And I'm debating between writing a model au or a cute bakery one?  
> Any suggestions? 
> 
> see ya next week for one more time. ;)


	8. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the epilogue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took forever. I just finished my finals up today and didn't want to put forth something unsatisfactory. 
> 
> Enjoy!

"Ready yet?"

 

"How about now?"

 

“Now?”

 

"No Harry. Let me just finish this really quickly. I've got to submit it at four this afternoon." Zayn was typing furiously on his computer. 

 

"It's definitely time." Harry bounced up and down shaking the couch. He did his best to distract Zayn. From sending a plethora of cute smiles his way to exposing his bare shoulder and winking. Alas Zayn's fortitude was stronger than normal today. Usually the sight of Harry’s horrid tattoos, those scattered about his left shoulder and arm were pretty alluring. Though Zayn wasn’t exactly sure why. They really should not have been attractive at all.

 

Just be patient," he murmured, sparing a hand to gently pat at Harry's leg. Harry pouted, rather adorably and rested his chin on his knee.

 

...

 

Zayn didn't expect their relationship to be all butterflies and rainbows and unicorns and shit. And it wasn't. His confession wasn't a fix all. And he knew that going into it. It was just a first step.

 

Zayn didn’t have some huge personality overhaul once he and Harry started out. He still liked to keep things to himself and sometimes not talk too much. And Harry still said things that didn't make sense and was too nice to everyone. Zayn was a little possessive which Harry didn’t seemed to understand, he always thought he was just being friendly. But they were trying, which was what really mattered. 

 

Zayn still didn't quite understand what Harry meant bringing Sylvia Plath into everything, and Harry didn't seem to want to share. Harry often would try to force Zayn into the pool and push his limits on that front, and Zayn fought him all the way. But it was in a good way. They communicated a lot more, even about little silly things. 

 

Making everything a lot easier was the fact that they were having sex now. And lots of it. Obviously, the sex was good. All the strange pent up sexual tension between the two of them was now abated through some vigorous 'exercise'. Zayn was probably in the best shape of his life, what with all the swimming and fucking and not smoking quite as much. 

 

Harry was an incredibly enthusiastic and diligent lover and also a fan of trying new things. Zayn thought he might love Harry, so he enjoyed their sexual adventures together. Louis did not. Louis had had the misfortune of walking in on Zayn and Harry in the thick of it several times now. They were in the honeymoon period, Louis would have to be much smarter.

 

The best part of it all was that Zayn finally got some clarity (if only the slightest) on what the hell was going on in Harry's head. It was surprisingly simpler than he could have imagined. Essentially, Harry like Zayn had been under the impression that Zayn didn't like him, and was just using Harry to pass the time. 

 

Zayn for the first time in his life felt very content. Which was better than being just happy. His life seemed to be pulling together. It nearly scared him how happy he was. But then again, Harry was there to reassure him it was okay to be content and satisfied, he just had to let himself.

 

...

 

"Okay I'm ready," said Zayn. He was all finished with his work stuff now. The weekend was theirs for the taking. Harry promptly crashed down onto the couch next to him, scooching all the way so he was slotted carefully into Zayn's side. Harry set up his laptop in front of both of them on the coffee table.

 

The screen blinked and suddenly Nadira was smiling back at them, well just Zayn really. Harry had rapidly ducked down out of sight.

 

"Hey Unca Zayn! I miss you lots." Her cheery voice came from the speakers.

 

"Hi Nadira. I miss you too, sweet pea. How's life going?"

 

She shrugged her tiny shoulders. "I dunno. Not as fun without Unca Zayn."

 

"Nadira is your mommy there?" Zayn asked.

 

Doniya poked her head into the frame, a curtain of her dark hair obscured most of her face. "Hey Zayn. How you doing? How’s teaching and stuff? Made anyone cry yet?"

 

"Good, good. Really good actually. And no, my students all like me a lot, I think."

 

"You look awfully smiley right now," Doniya grinned. 

 

"Anyways, Nadira, I wanted to tell you something. But you have to promise you won't be mad, alright?"

 

"Tell me, tell me," Nadira bounced up and down a little. She then took a sip out of a bright orange sippy cup.

 

"Well, I have someone here who is going to say hi too."

 

Harry enthusiastically popped into the frame, nearly causing Zayn to knock the computer off the coffee table. Zayn just managed to save it. Though a bunch of his work papers were not quite as safe. "Hullo Nadira! Hi Doniya. Fancy the weather this week? It's been proper chilly down here," he exclaimed.

 

"Harry!? What are you doing in Unca Zayn's house?" Nadira giggled.

 

"That's actually what we called to talk about," said Zayn trying to keep a straight face as Doniya smirked at him.

 

"Nadira, you're Uncle Zayn and I are, how should I put this? You see, we’re…we are together." Harry planted a big smooch on Zayn's cheek to emphasize his rather roundabout point.

 

"Unca Zayn. I thought. Wah," Nadira looked confused.

 

"I know it may be weird. But Harry's a cool guy. I just wanted to tell you first that's all. He's my boyfriend. But that doesn't mean I love you any less."

 

"Yeah," Harry chimed in, "Your Uncle Zayn and I love you very much." 

 

Zayn may have blushed a little. He kind of liked hearing Harry refer to them together. It had a nice ring to it. Zayn and Harry. 

 

"Well. That doesn't really matter to me. Cuz Harry and I, we are gonna get married too, you know! So you should be the one that doesn’t get mad, Unca." Nadira exclaimed, she held up her hand to display a plastic spider ring. She wiggled her small fingers around and showing off her ring finger from multiple angles. Doniya chuckled.

 

"Oh I see! I quite like that." Zayn gently elbowed Harry, who shrugged in response.

 

"He gave it to me to give to you once, but I kept it for me. Shhh," Nadira explained, then held her index finger to her lips. Zayn laughed and quirked a suspicious brow at Harry, who merely shrugged. 

 

"Well, guys. We're actually going to have some company over in a bit. It was great seeing you though. Have a good semester, yeah?" Doniya was a life saver. 

 

"Bye Nadira! Nice seeing you too, Doniya," Harry said cheerfully.

 

"Love you lots," Zayn waved at his niece.

 

"Bye bye Unca Zayn, bye Harry." She mournfully wiggled her fingers at the screen. Then the connection disconnected.

 

“What was that all about?” Zayn couldn’t help but grin, though he concealed his face from Harry.

 

“Oh you, know. Little kids they like to make stuff up,” Harry tried to coolly brush it off.

 

“It’s alright. I know plenty of people who want to marry me,” Zayn said, “Got loads of people lining up, proposing. You’re one of my side bitches, obviously.”

 

“Ouch. That wounds me so,” said Harry, feigning being struck in the heart.

 

“It’s okay, you can give me cheapo little plastic rings if you like,” Zayn intoned, taking Harry’s chin between his forefinger and his thumb. He swiped his thumb over the soft peach fuzz on Harry’s chin.

 

“Can I?” Harry quirked his eyebrows ever so slightly. A challenge.

 

“How about the kind that go, around, well, you know?” Harry’s eyes looked mischievous as he trailed his gaze down the length of Zayn’s body.

 

“Who say’s I haven’t already got one with your name on it?” Zayn smirked. That’s when Harry lunged forward and captured Zayn’s lips with his own, knocking his teeth against Zayn’s with his enthusiasm. Zayn swore, something Harry was like a skittish colt who had just learned how to walk. All eagerness and no coordination nor any concept of spatial awareness.

 

“Easy there, Styles,” Zayn pulled back a little bit, petting at Harry’s mane a bit like a cat, as if that would dampen his libido.

 

“I prefer to just dive in, you know that. I’m a bit impatient like that,” said Harry bucking his hips up a bit, in an attempt to dislodge Zayn.

 

“We’ve got all night,” Zayn smiled as he swiftly rolled Harry onto his back on the couch.  “Who knows, we could even learn to do some breaststroke,” Zayn trailed his hands over Harry’s pectorals.

 

“Do I have four breasts then, if I’ve got four nipples?” Harry said stupidly.

 

“You better thank god you’re not too shabby on the eyes,” Zayn groaned, nearly slapping his hand to his forehead.

 

“You love me, all of me, admit it.”

 

Zayn nodded, “Maybe.” Then he happily shut Harry up by occupying his mouth with his own.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew. It's over. I hope y'all liked it. Thank you so much for sticking around. This is probably the first longish fic I've actually managed to finish....ever. 
> 
> Also...coming soon to a screen near ya----model au, and omg did I really starting writing a Star Trek AU? (sorry I'm not sorry)


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